


Persona 5: Duel Between Devils

by D_Rev



Category: Persona 5, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Awkward Romance, Being a Phantom Thief is fucking suffering, Cairo Egypt, Character Death, Contradicting Information (yes this is a main theme), Dubious Morality, F/M, Gen, Glorious Jojo Violence, Hypocrisy, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5: Vento Aureo, Losing everything that defines you, Minor Antagonist OCs, Multi, Musical References, Mystery, Naples Italy, No Beta, OC Branch of Passione, Original Antagonists Stand Users, Persona 5: The Royal, Post-Canon, Stand Battles (JoJo), Trafficking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 56,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Rev/pseuds/D_Rev
Summary: The Phantom Thieves go on a vacation to Italy, only for them to discover that the world is a much crueler and larger place than the Metaverse led them to believe.Now, gifted the ability to use a stand, they must defend against an onslaught of enemies with bizarre powers as they hunt for information about an Italian mob boss by invading the minds of his subordinates. However, what has caused the rebirth of the Metaverse? Why do these two similar supernatural abilities, personas and stands, coexist in the first place? And what does it truly mean to take a life?
Relationships: Amamiya Ren & Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Amamiya Ren/Niijima Makoto, Giorno Giovanna & Persona 5 Protagonist, Hirose Koichi & Persona 5 Protagonist, Hirose Koichi/Yamagishi Yukako, Kujo Jotaro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Kujo Jotaro/Kujo Jotaro's Wife, Kurusu Akira & Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Kurusu Akira/Niijima Makoto, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 31
Kudos: 68





	1. In the Wake of Poseidon

**Author's Note:**

> I made this on a whim in Google Docs. I meant to post this a lot earlier and divide this chapter into several smaller ones for pacing, but I decided against it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! Even if its a little rough around the edges!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so fair warning. I know it's a little late now, but I like to experiment with stream of consciousness in my writing. So I'm sorry if it's hard to follow or if it's repetitive. Some of this is intentional, but I am by no means a professional or even a good writer. 
> 
> It's a hobby. This is my first fic, so please criticize it. I'd like to improve.
> 
> Note that I'm a big fan of James Joyce's "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" and that heavily influences my writing. I try to convey a character's personality, habits, and language through syntax. For example, if a character views themselves as an intellectual or mastermind, the descriptions for their stream of consciousness will be considerably more flowery. Or they'll learn something then confuse it immediately.
> 
> That being said it needs to be balanced with proper storytelling.

\--12 / 31-- Afternoon

The battle was effectively already over. Memories of Yaldabaoth's shattered head replayed in his mind on a near-daily basis. The Metaverse--for all intensive purposes--had disappeared after its apocalyptic fusion with reality.

Akira Kurusu ran his fingers through his soft black hair as he pondered the events of the last week. 

Everything had turned out perfectly. Mankind was no longer prisoners to a fate designed by their own accumulated desire for control. Shido received justice thanks to Akechi's arrest on Christmas morning. 

_Akechi._ The man was supposed to be dead. They heard the two gunshots go off from outside the metal door Akechi shut inside Shido's palace. Futaba even confirmed his death using her persona, Prometheus. However, when Akira was about to turn himself into the police to guarantee Sae's prosecution of Masayoshi Shido, Akechi nonetheless emerged and gave himself up willingly to Sae. Even though Akechi would likely live in a jail cell for the rest of his life, the dead man did not hesitate to take Akira's place. 

It was a strange thing. To feel gratitude to a mass serial killer who had previously attempted to murder you. The whole situation was surreal to Akira. Though he hated Akechi, he couldn't help but resonate with him. He'd have to visit him in prison along with the other thieves at some point in the future. Not because he particularly wanted to see him, but because he owes Akechi that much after his confession.

"Hey anyone home?"

Awoken from his introspection, Akira jumped from out of his bed onto the floor of Leblanc, accidentally waking up Morgana from his nap--much to the feline's dismay. Putting on a more presentable outfit than his black night shirt and dark green sweatpants, Akira walked down stairs to meet with his friends--Morgana following closely behind. 

"We didn't know what to bring for the party, so Yusuke, Ryuji, and I thought we'd just go with the safer option by bringing hot pot. I hope that's okay." Ann interjected.

"Hey where's everyone else, Lady Ann? I thought I taught you guys how to be punctual at least by now. They really need to be better prepared for our meetings." smugly replied Morgana, looking around for the others.

"Ah, shut it, you stupid cat! It's not like you brought anything yourself for the party after all. Ain't that right Yusuke?" Ryuji chided, looking over to his navy-haired ally with a grin adorning him.

"Do not fret, friends. For I have prepared!" Yusuke reassured Akira to the confused looks from Ann and Ryuji. He pumped his fists in the air in front of him. 

The only other time he had seen Yusuke this eager was when he first talked about "making the best nude painting ever." The guy was an enigma, certainly, but he was a good friend in addition to being a very entertaining individual.

"For real?! But you didn't even buy anything earlier! In fact, we had to pay for your train fare!" 

"Yes, but the reason why I lacked the money was because I had the wisdom to bring porridge this time!" Yusuke excitedly replied, pulling out several large microwavable packets of porridge from seemingly nowhere.

"Yusuke, how much money did you end up spending on those?" A concerned familiar voice stated.

Taking a step backwards and turning around, Akira found himself face to face with the red irises of Makoto Nijima. In his surprise, he had accidentally gotten too close to her for his own comfort; his face was only inches away from hers. Moving back as to retreat to a much more comfortable distance, his face blushed slightly. She, however, blushed quite furiously in comparison. Behind her, Futaba and Haru entered Leblanc, the bell above the door chiming as a result.

"Oh my! It appears we got here late. It feels absolutely wonderful being together like this however! I'm actually really excited to give you something for the party, Akira! I just know Sojiro and you will be so proud of it!" Haru cut-in; her fluffy curls happily bouncing as she walked over to Akira with a plastic bag. Handing the bag over to Akira, she eagerly watched him open it as his face lit up. He pulled out a smaller bag with a flowery design reading "Okumura Organic Roasted Coffee Beans Mix!" in all capital letters…. The exclamation point at the end must have specifically been Haru's idea, considering the dot was another light purple flower.

"After we last interacted with him, Takakura-san and I began production of a new Okumura Foods line of coffee beans! I got to grow these myself, and I really enjoyed getting to work with professionals in order to produce these! We haven't started selling them on the market yet, but I figured that the Phantom Thieves should be the first ones to try out the blend!" Haru continued, "I was actually hoping on we could drink it together."

"Oh Haru! Thank you so much! I can't wait to try to make a coffee blend using your new mix! I'll get started on working on it right away!" Akira moved behind the wooden counter. True to his word, he immediately hyper-focused on the small bag. To Makoto, he looked like a child on Christmas morning, rushing down the stairs in anticipation to play with his new toys.

"I brought the anime to marathon!" yelled Futaba.

To Makoto, Futaba actually was a child who looked like she was excited to play with her new toys. 

"Sweet bro! Which one?"

...And so was Ryuji apparently.

"Duh, the original Neo Featherman! What else did you expect?"

"Why the hell didn't you bring the new series? I heard the one with that new hot actor is pretty good." reasoned Ryuji, a bit disappointed.

"Of course someone with as unrefined taste as you Ryuji would say that. It's alright, but nothing can compare to the original thing! They really started milking the franchise ever since it came back due to people's nostalgia for the original." 

A smug expression adorned the shut-in's face.

Akira began to tune out the argument between Futaba and Ryuji, deciding to exclusively place his attention on the coffee.

"By the way, Akira, sis mentioned something about meeting with you following the battle with Yaldabaoth? Can you please explain what happened?" asked Makoto, interrupting his new pet project.

"Yes, I concur. I had hoped you'd tell us about that today. However, on a much more pressing manner, I simply desire that we begin our meal with curry as an appetizer. Unlike last time we had hot pot, this shall be a multi-course meal to remember!" demanded Yusuke.

The boy could really eat.

Nodding his head, Akira quickly elaborated on the whole encounter with Sae and Akechi. He readjusted his glasses as he passed out some already-prepared plates of Leblanc's signature dish to his friends.

"Ah man! I still can't believe that asshole was alive the whole time!" Ryuji shouted as he scarfed down some of Boss' famous curry.

"It is indeed bizarre that he would suddenly appear like that after having been confirmed dead." followed up Yusuke, agreeing with Ryuji as the lanky boy devoured the curry at a worrying rate. The boy was already on his fourth plate. How much could that kid eat? 

Correction: how long had Yusuke gone without eating prior to this celebration?  
Ah, well, Akira would just have to interrogate his friend regarding his unhealthy financial situation at another time.

Soon after, having finished and distributed the coffee, Akira guided the group upstairs as to indulge Futaba's anime marathon of Neo Featherman. With the rest of the cohort heading to the attic, he quickly set Makoto aside, grabbing her wrist.

"H-hey, can I talk to you after the party? I need to confide in someone about something that could possibly involve the rest of the Phantom Thieves," justified Akira. He needed to talk to someone about the constant anxiety that haunted his mind. Who else better than his second in command, right? Although, he knew that wasn't the only reason why he wanted to talk to her.

Makoto gulped. Could he be asking her out? Did he realize why she suddenly lamented not being able to study romance to him at Crossroads? It was a bold move of her to attempt to hint to the boy she liked of her feelings, but when he didn't respond to it earlier, she assumed he was simply letting her down gently with the whole "study partner" joke and attempted to move past her feelings to no avail and panicked later when Eiko suggested that perhaps Akira was just oblivious. Her mind raced at a million miles per hour. A drop of sweat rolled down her cheek as they began to glow pink.

No, she was just getting her own hopes up, surely. She had no romantic experience to deal with these situations to go off of. It was better to just repress how she felt.

"Sure, that's fine with me. Do you mind if I asked why?"

Without thinking, Akira reasoned, "well, I-I thought someone as intelligent like you would understand me the best. I value your judgment a lot, and I-I trust you the most with these things."

Blushing, the two nodded their heads before following after their teammates.

As their New Year's celebration continued, the snow began to pile at an increasing rate. Not wanting to be snowed in at Leblanc, the rest of the Phantom Thieves left to return home sans Makoto and Akira. Morgana opted to spend the night with Futaba--a rare demonstration of tact for the furball.

As he stared outside the window of Leblanc's attic onto the snowy streets of Yongen-Jaya, he sat beside his advisor in a comfortable silence. As Phantom Thieves, the two found it easier to confide in one another than with the rest of the group. Originally finding the girl to be quite cute as she followed him around hidden behind an upside down manga, Akira found Makoto's reactions to his teasing particularly adorable. However, despite his interest in her, he didn't really know how to express it outside of flirting. Scared of rejection, he hypocritically would get easily flustered by her presence, much to the mocking of his other friends. Morgana, Ryuji, and--strangely enough--Akechi in particular. Although Akechi made fun of him for it primarily for the sake of banter amidst their daily debates. Regardless, hoping to break the silence and find an excuse to get closer to her, he attempted to explain his troubles to his would-be girlfriend.

"Perhaps you're just instinctively stressing about the Phantom Thieves splitting apart? With the Metaverse gone, we have no real reason to continue anymore." Makoto said hastily, adjusting her braid headband while attempting to stare into Akira's black eyes.

He wondered. Yeah, he was sad about leaving his friends but that didn't seem to be the only reason behind his stress.

"Yeah, I just think that, with the end of my probation approaching, I'm just worried about not being able to meet up like we used to. You'll be going into college very soon, and the rest of the Thieves will eventually split too." Akira responded, justifying that his worrying must be the result of this separation.

Akira wouldn't really have any good friends in his hometown after all. At least, not anymore. Though Morioh was actually a pretty nice place, he'd doubt he'd be able to rekindle any friendships after how they betrayed him following his arrest.

"Well, if that's the case, then why don't we go on a vacation somewhere? We've got about a month to relax anyways before school starts back up. Haru's been dying to take us somewhere as a group for a while now, and this would be a good way to commemorate our time together. I believe Yusuke and her wanted to go to Italy in order to appreciate the arts and food. They discussed it with us when you were preoccupied with the coffee. Futaba even called Sojiro about it, and he gave the thumbs up for the both of you to go on the trip in a few days."

Agreeing with Makoto simply as to not argue with her, Akira was conflicted. The bonds the group had crystallized in the face of life-or-death situations wouldn't be broken by simple time apart. He knew that for a fact. They were comrades for life at this point. If that's the case, then why was he so worried?

The uneasiness just wouldn't go away.

Having spent a wonderful evening with Makoto and the rest of the Phantom Thieves, he found himself stressing over reasons unknown to himself. Awkwardly losing track of time, they had finished their conversation only after the last train already left. As a result, Makoto would be staying in with him at Leblanc. Thankfully, Sae had her hands full with the Shido case and would not be going home tonight according to her sister. Internally panicking, he suggested that she go to the bathhouse first as to have some more time to think to himself about what to do in this situation. Soon after she had left, Akira grabbed another pair of clothes as he left Leblanc for the bathhouse across the street.

However, he instead became distracted by his own introspection once more instead of finding a way to overcome the totally-not-sexual tension grew with every passing moment.

_Why did he feel as though he's only now stumbling into a much more dangerous conspiracy than the mental shutdowns? Yaldabaoth's defeat felt more like a new beginning to a much larger journey rather than a conclusion to their adventures. He had no clue why though._

Unbeknownst to anyone in Tokyo at the moment, this anxiety came as a result of a scarcely-known fact of the universe that cyclically brought people each other into conflict. 

_No matter how much we rebel against it, we are all sleeping slaves of fate._

\--12 / 31-- Evening

Too emotionally tired from the prior celebration, Makoto headed over to the bed and gestured the confused Akira over to the futon he had set up for himself earlier. They would have to discuss this vacation more tomorrow, and given how tired they were, the two were going to sleep pretty soundly.

… At least, he thought he would. Shortly after he shut his eyes, he could hear the familiar tune of the Velvet room play as water trickled onto his sleeping face. He didn't think he'd see Lavenza and Igor again after the Metaverse disappeared, but there they were. 

Too bad that before he had the chance to interact with them, the ground beneath his feet shot up, causing him to topple onto his back and skyrocketing him past the ceiling and into the black abyss that laid beyond the Velvet Room.

After some time passed, he found himself launched into a strange new room. Its brick floor bore the signature "V" of the Velvet room, and the room itself was enclosed by various light-blue pillars that seemed to rotate ever so slightly. The ceiling seemed to be made of wires and had the shape of a butterfly patterned onto it. In the center of the room, a masked man stood stoically, his hand holding his chin in deep thought.

"Welcome to my seal, Trickster. I am Philemon."

Without any movement, the man was suddenly facing towards Akira, revealing a pale blue butterfly design on his mask as well as a white straight jacket. He looked almost withered, as though this was once a being of great power who was now exhausted from a lifetime of life-or-death conflicts. His graying brown hair seemed to fall out a bit more with every passing second. His legs were completely inanimate; the flesh of his lower half seemed to be made of concrete.

"Long have I taken a backseat to the events of the past few decades. However, with the unprecedented rise of a new dawn emerging as two separate worlds collide, I am to pass one last gift onto you and your friends before I return to my seal. In order to resolve the oncoming war, I must change the terms of your contracts."

A blue light flashed before his eyes. In front of his eyes, a tarot card that he identified as "the World" appeared briefly before Philemon cast it adieu. Though questions brewed in the back of his mind, Akira could not bring himself to speak.

The man coughed and hunched over in pain.

"I grant you the power of conversion. This power will cost a price for you, however. No longer will you be able to fuse personas using the Velvet Room. You are to fend for yourself using what methods you've learned in the past year. In return, your original persona will receive proper adjustment in terms of strength. When the time is right, you--along with your friends--will have the potential to become a chosen one of a fate designed by a being outside of I or Nyarlathotep. I am unable to explain due to our short time, but all will be revealed soon."

Akira swallowed. What did he mean by the "methods you've learned in the past year?" Arsene was returning to him? Chosen ones? Who was Nyarlathotep? The man had a crushing presence similar to Yaldabaoth that prevented Joker from opening his mouth.

"Recall the bonds you have made with your friends and always stay cautious. The cunning mind that you demonstrated against the false deity will serve you well, but only if you are willing to steady yourself and sacrifice what's necessary for the survival of you and your friends. The enemy that awaits you shall thrust you into a predesignated path void of the brevity, motifs, and patterns of your last game. Your fighting spirits and willingness to overturn fate is your only hope."

Akira doubted whatever journey Philemon was describing was not going to be anything like the Phantom Thieves' rise and fall. Joker worried. Unlike the relatively clean infiltrations and treasure-hunting that characterized the group's usual escapades, they will likely need to get their hands dirty according to Philemon.

"One final warning before I send you off. Remember: _This is no game that you find yourself in. It is a battle to the death between foreign gods."_

The pillars began to close in ever so slightly.

As sirens began to blare, Akira began to slip back into his sleep.

"The days of the Phantom Thieves have yet to conclude."

\--01 / 01-- Early Morning

Akira woke to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm. Groggy, he looked over to Makoto, who had already begun to wake up to turn off her phone alarm.

Huh. Classical music. He should have figured that would be the case with Makoto. He looked outside the window. It was still dark out.

"Good morning, Makoto."

She raised her arms over her head and yawned. Very cute.

"Should I go ahead and prepare some breakfast?" asked Akira, not wanting to bother his advisor when she first woke up.

She silently nodded her head.

Soon after, Akira returned with scrambled eggs and coffee.

"I hope you're not upset with our breakfast. I figured you'd want to have something other than curry to start off your day."

"Thank you, Akira. I really appreciate it. If you want, could you come over for dinner tonight? I'd like to return the favor." said Makoto, sipping on some coffee to wake her up fully.

"I'd love to. How did you sleep by the way?"

Their conversation led into a discussion regarding Akira's dream.

What did he mean by "conversion?" He no longer felt the presence of the wild card within him. After having gotten used to it over the course of a year, it felt like he had lost some part of himself to a degree. Either way, the Metaverse apparently had yet to fully disappear either way.

Makoto and him agreed to keep Philemon's words to themselves. That's not to say they wouldn't exercise caution, but they didn't want to worry the others. Their vacation was coming up after all. The last thing they needed was for stress to fester in the back of the minds of their friends. 

Still Philemon. Akira didn't know what to think of him. He reminded Akira of Yaldabaoth in terms of being a seemingly omnipotent being, but why didn't he interfere to stop Yaldabaoth earlier? Why was he sealed? And most importantly: what being could possibly frighten the supposedly all-powerful ruler of the Velvet room? Was this what Akira was so worried about?

What did he mean by "a battle to the death between foreign gods?" The message was as ominous as it was shrouded in mystery. Did this mean the Metaverse was back in its proper form?

He looked down at his phone. Sure enough, the Metaverse navigator was there once more. Only instead of its familiar black-and-red color scheme and eyeball logo, it was replaced by a more intricate design. The app's borders were now embroidered with a pattern of alternating purple and gold triangles, that surrounded a background consisting of a rainbow radial gradient. In the center of the app, a white tip of a fountain pen stood in place of the previously menacing eyeball logo. The fountain pen logo was covered in purple rose-bush thorns that stemmed from the app's borders, as though it was keeping it in place. It was a far cry from the simple, abstract design of the old Metaverse navigator. 

Had it changed because of Yaldabaoth's defeat? Was this essentially Philemon's version of the Nav? No. That didn't seem right. Judging from Philemon's "sealing room," the new eccentric design of the Nav did not suit him. Akira figured this must be the actions of the "foreign gods" Philemon had mentioned in his dream. Furthermore, the app now seemed a bit more… "low ping," as Futaba would say. It ran considerably slower, as though it was taking up more processing power on his phone. How strange.

He opened the app. All the previous Metaverse options were still there. Spaces to enter a name, a location, and a distortion were still placed at the top of the screen as normal. There was one addition to the app. An apparently corrupted button listed as "COnVeRt" ran across the bottom of the screen. Akira pressed it to test the results.

Nothing occurred.

"ERRoR." The button now read that instead of the "convert" message. 

Akira pressed it again to no avail… only this time, the app crashed, and his phone now opened up to a YouTube video.

Akira, hesitating, pressed "Play" on the video. 

(Warning. The following video contains language that can be considered anti-Semetic depending on your interpretation of the lyrics. I don't believe it's intended to offend or marginalize any groups of people, but I figured I should at least have a warning regardless.)

[Michael Jackson - They Don't Really Care About Us (Uncensored Version) [Audio HQ] HD](https://youtu.be/bnMAh-0wmhg)

American music? While he liked the song--a lot in fact, he couldn't help but be confused. What could it mean? Makoto was exploring the app too. Did she get the same video as well?

"Makoto, you're also looking at the Metaverse Navigator, right? Did you get redirected to a video as well?" Akira questioned, raising an eyebrow at the bizarreness of the situation.

Makoto nodded her head quickly. Her face was now red with embarrassment for some reason.

"What video did it open to?"

Makoto held her arm shyly and looked to her right dejectedly.

"Ummm...if it's okay with you, I'd rather not say. It's sort of embarrassing."

How peculiar. He didn't press her on the subject since his advisor seemed uncomfortable talking about it, but he was still curious. 

His phone buzzed. The group chat had woken up as well apparently.

RYUJI: So whats the plan with the Italy vacation? I'm so freaking pumped!

YUSUKE: Indeed. I too am "pumped" for the opportunity to gaze upon the works of many Italian artists. You can equate it to a holy pilgrimage of sorts.

ANN: The foods supposed to be to-die-for there too! I can't wait to try their crepes!

MAKOTO: ...ummm Ann? Crepes are French.

ANN: Oh well now I look stupid. I'm still excited for their desserts though.

AKIRA: Any news from Takakura-san, Haru?

HARU: Well, I talked to Takakura-san, and he said he managed to get plane tickets for tomorrow morning for Italy--as well as hotel reservations for each of us! 

RYUJI: Forreal?! That was fast.

FUTABA: Mweheheheh. A certain someone may have helped without his knowledge.

Akira looked at his phone in disapproval.

AKIRA: Futaba, what did you do?

FUTABA: I may have bumped off some people's reservations. Don't blame me, blame Mona for not stopping me...Mweheheheh

Akira sighed in disappointment. He felt bad for the people who had suddenly lost their vacations, but there wasn't anything they could do about it at this point.

"So when do you want to meet up with Sae for dinner?" Makoto said, interrupting Akira's thought process.

"Does 5 p.m. work for you? We've got an early morning tomorrow, so we ought to go to bed a bit earlier too." Morgana's influence on Akira's sleep patterns had certainly become permanent at this point.

"That works. I'll need to go out and get groceries then. I'll see you then!" Makoto left Leblanc, clearly attempting to hide her excitement.

Akira, all alone now, looked up at the attic's cobweb-invested wooden ceiling.

"What is going on?"

\--01 / 01-- Daytime

Makoto just texted to inform him that Sae would not be coming home tonight because of the Shido case. That was to be expected at least. She had been super busy with the Akechi confession. So why was Akira relieved and excited to get some more alone time with Makoto?

Wait, is this a dinner date?

They'd both be eating together alone in relatively nice clothes. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that this won't be the closest thing they've shared to an adult date together. Even when they were pretend-dating in order to trick Eiko and investigate Tsukasa, they never did anything like this. Looking back, Akira missed it. It was fun to be together with her, even if it was fake. 

He resolved himself. Tonight was going to be the night. He'd make it romantic as possible for the two of them, and then he'd ask to go out with her. No indirectly implying that he wanted to go out with her like he had done at Crossroads. He'd ask her flat-out. Just thinking about it made him blush happily. Even if she turned him down, he doubted he'd make anything awkward between them. The two had gotten the closest out of the rest of the Phantom Thieves. No hormone-fueled situation was going to kill their relationship.

Akira took a deep breath, and he got out an ironing board, a nice striped navy suit, a white button-down, and a black tie that he had brought from home. His plans were as followed: at 1 o'clock, he'd finish ironing his suit and shirt and hang them up; at 2 o'clock, he'd take a medical bath across the road as to boost his already maxed out charm; at 3 o'clock, he'd get dressed and ask Sojiro if he could borrow some cologne for a date as the man was quite understanding when it came to romance; at 4 o'clock, he'd head to Shinjuku to get a romance fortune read by Chihaya in order to "send his feelings to the other person"; at 4:30, he'd head back over to Shibuya in order to buy some roses at Rafflesia; finally, at 5 o'clock, he'd punctually arrive to her apartment without his cosmetic glasses on.

He had this planned out to the very minute. His confidence knowing no limits, he began his mission.

Meanwhile, a familiar eighteen-year-old girl was having similar thoughts.

"I'm going to blow him/her away tonight."

\--01 / 01-- Afternoon

Dressed in his freshly-ironed suit and holding a bouquet of roses behind his back, he stood outside her apartment at the designated time. He lightly knocked on the door before hearing the locks on it undone. The door opened slowly to reveal Makoto wearing a short black dress and some see-through black tights.

Akira gulped loudly.

Makoto did too, but she had the awareness to disguise it underneath the sound of her heels against the ground.

"You look wonderful." Both said at once, quickly getting embarrassed by their accidental synchronization.

Akira took a deep breath, telling himself to relax.

"Not as good as you, obviously." He said, shamelessly unaware of how cheesy he sounded.

Makoto was equally unaware, as her face erupted into a deeper blush. She turned around quickly, gesturing him to the dining room table as she left to go get dinner from the kitchen. It had only taken her several seconds, but by the time she turned around, he already turned off the lights, lit several candles, and scattered rose petals over the borders of the table. 

He was good. She couldn't say anything in response. How did he do that in such a short period of time?

As he helped her bring in the food, he stopped her suddenly. From behind his back, he pulled out the bouquet of roses he bought earlier to give to her. 

"For you, my Queen."

Her red face intensified past her limit. Did Akira like her? Did he realize how much she fell for him? Why was he so dang smooth?

All the thoughts and more caused Makoto to spiral downwards until finally, she decided to turn the tables in a way Akira never expected. At least, not from her.

"Accidentally," she dropped a pair of chopsticks onto the ground right in front of Akira before she turned around, lifted her dress ever so tantalizingly upwards, and bent over to pick it up. She had seen one of the femme fatales of her favorite Yakuza movies perform this technique on the protagonist before to great effect, and she innocently did not understand the connotations of the scene then. It wasn't until her lovesick teenage phase when she started reading tons of shoujo manga that she understood its sexual nature. 

She underestimated the effect on Akira. Having gotten a tease of her behind, he panicked inwardly, but he refused to let it show on his face.

She should have realized that a veteran Phantom Thief like Akira would not be as embarrassed from simple sexual tension. As they ate their food in comfortable silence, she continued to press her limits by crossing her legs seductively. Still no response. Was she not good enough? Why was she the only one embarrassed?

That's when she decided to place it all on one single trump card. Futaba had mentioned it earlier in passing, but she didn't think the prestigious, prudish student council president of Shujin would ever use it herself. Her face turning a deep crimson, she slowly walked over to Akira's seat and sat on his lap.

Akira coughed. _Finally_ , she had him on the ropes now.

She leaned forward and turned her head ever so slightly, whispering into his ear and allowing him to hear the most subtlest sounds of her breath.  
"You know, not only is sis out of the house for tonight, but our neighbors are out too. We could make all the noise we wanted, and nobody would know."

That was the final nail in the coffin, but Makoto didn't get the reaction she wanted. Instead of inflicting the embarrassment she wanted onto him, his face sharpened seriously, demonstrating an expression of absolute determination. Underneath this confident facade, however, the trickster was losing his collective shit as he pieced together what she could have meant by her provocation.

Did she just imply what he thought she did? That was impossible, Makoto was too naïve and easily embarrassed for her to suggest something like that so brazenly. So why? He had to admit though. If her goal was to fluster him, it was certainly working--not that Akira would allow himself to show signs of that though. 

Then, it finally hit him. She _was_ trying to fluster him. It'd make sense. He spent most of his time with her trying to cause her to blush because he found her reactions to be adorable. This was an act with no actual substance behind what she said. _Of course_ she wouldn't want to have sex with him on their first non-official-but-non-fake date. She was just attempting to get a reaction out of him. She didn't expect for him to actually take her up on it, not that he would have. That sort of thing should be between more intimate lovers, not between mutually-pining teenagers. It did prove one thing to Akira though: she one-hundred percent have feelings for him, which meant he could still turn the tables back on her.

Akira sighed in relief. He was honestly a little proud of Makoto. Several months back, and she would never be able to do something like this--let alone invite a boy into her apartment for dinner for a pseudo-date. Although he felt pride for Makoto's progress, his own pride as a self-proclaimed debonair would not allow him to take such a challenge lying down.

Very well, he shall accept her empty words and use them against her.

It was an admittedly fierce battle, but, not wanting to be outdone, Akira decided enough was enough. Gently grabbing her chin, he brought his face towards her, pressing his lips onto hers. Makoto's eyes shot open, and the weight of everything she had done in order to embarrass him hit her all at once. Had she really sat on his lap and implied that she wanted to have rough sex with him? Like a pervert? They weren't even dating yet! At least, not officially. Her imagination ran wild; images of herself and Akira wearing nothing in a tight embrace came to her mind. Her chest tightened… Clearly, she bit off more than she could chew. She couldn't take it anymore.

After her face transformed into a bright red star, a stream of blood exploded from her nose, rocketing her head backwards. Her face twisted into pleasure as she lost consciousness.

_Well that was a fun series of events._

Akira couldn't believe himself. Should he not have kissed her? Someone as innocent with romance as Makoto probably needed to prepare herself for something like that. He had teased her into unconsciousness. Not knowing what else to do, he picked her up and brought her over to her bed. 

He stared at the panda-shaped pillow laying on the ground. Should he stay? They had a flight tomorrow morning, and he had to pack. Looking over to the corner of her room, he saw a stack of luggage already prepared for Makoto. Figures.

He resolved to quickly run over to Leblanc on the second to last train, pack his stuff, and come back to make sure she was okay. Since Sae wasn't coming home tonight, he was sure Makoto wouldn't mind him sleeping over at her place to be sure she was okay.

\--01 / 02-- Early Morning

Koichi Hirose was excited. He ran his hand through his spiky grayish-blue hair. Having received an all-expenses-paid vacation from Jotaro to Italy, he couldn't help but smile. Sure, he was supposed to look out for Haruno Shiobanna, but the chances of him finding Haruno were pretty slim. He figured he'd just enjoy the culture during his stay there. Before he left Morioh on a redirected flight to Tokyo, Rohan-sensei had used Heaven's Door to allow him to speak fluent Italian. He didn't have anything to worry about, especially since he was in the first-class section of the flight to Italy. 

Now if only that vulgar blond kid in the first-class section would quiet down enough for him to relax, then that'd be great. Sure, he had loud friends like that too in the form of Okuyasu, but Koichi was especially tired from a lack of sleep. He rolled his eyes.

"Dude, how can you sleep at a time like this, Akira? I'm too freaking excited to sleep! It's Italy, dude, Italy! There's going to be tons of cute foreign girls!"

The black haired young man turned and stared at his blond friend, telling him to quiet down. He then turned towards Koichi. An apologetic expression covered his face.

"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's behavior. He's actually a very nice person. He just has a bad habit of being a tad too loud."

Koichi was shocked by the teenager's politeness. After the many life-or-death scenarios that he was involved in last year, Koichi was able to mature and become a more dependable person as a result--at least according to Jotaro. He had transformed into a veteran of many stand battles, and he found it difficult to connect with his other peers because of it. Sure, he had his girlfriend Yukako, Rohan-sensei, Jotaro-san, and his best friends Okuyasu and Josuke, but he couldn't seem to expand his circle of friends outside of the other stand users. His interactions with his peers often ended one-sided or awkward. However, this bespectacled young man, who didn't seem any older than him, seemed to have a mature, charismatic presence to him. Was he another stand user? It didn't really matter though if he was, considering he didn't appear to be the kind of person who'd start a fight or attack someone else.

"Oh! Don't worry about it. I actually have a friend very similar to him back in Morioh. I don't mind."

He did mind, but he wasn't going to be a jerk about it. The kid's face lit up as soon as he mentioned Morioh.

"I'm actually from Morioh too! I'm actually in Tokyo right now for personal reasons however. My name's Akira Kurusu. It's nice to meet you!"

Huh? So that explains it. 

"Likewise. I'm Koichi Hirose. You said you were from Morioh, yeah? I may have actually gone to high-school with you last year if that's the case."

Akira paused. Not wanting to bring up his old record, he shifted the conversation back towards Koichi. Considering Morioh was a relatively big place, it was strange that he remembered seeing Koichi around vaguely.

"Yeah, actually, I think I remember seeing you around. You always hung around that guy with the scars on his face and that other guy with the hooligan haircut, right?"

As soon as Akira mentioned the hair, Koichi visibly winced. It must have been a topic of some distress. Akira had no clue why it would be though. It's just hair. No need to get so stressed over it.

"How about we make a deal? Next time I'm in Morioh, I'll come hang out with you to talk."

Their conversation continued for a good while before the two decided to sleep some more.

**I am thou, thou art I…  
Thou hast acquired a new vow.**

**It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.**

**With the birth of the MAGUS Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.**

His eyelids started to feel tired until they eventually shut for a good while.

\--01 / 02-- Daytime

The plane had landed several hours ago. Waiting for his friends to arrive with his luggage, Akira stood outside the airport alongside Koichi. Having exhausted most conversation topics by catching up about Morioh, Akira began to read the description Haru had sent them about Italy on their phones. He could imagine Makoto reciting it to him as if she was testing him.

Naples: a city location in southern Italy. It's a famous tourist spot so beautiful that people say that you should see it at least once before you die.

In short, it was the perfect getaway for the mentally and physically exhausted Phantom Thieves for the next month. No Metaverse. No school. No jobs. No probation to worry about.

Just him and his friends relaxing in a foreign country.

As his friends came back to him, Akira noticed Koichi being heckled by a pink-dressed blonde taxi driver. Akira looked closer. Was his hair stylized into rings? 

Shaking his head at the notion, he resolved to step into the situation. Despite seeming the same age as him, the taxi driver had an air of superiority to him. Not like the kind of arrogance that Akechi had, but a more regal one. 

"I'll give both of you a much cheaper ride to your hotels. I have a van as well if your other friends would like to come along." The blonde said cooly in perfect Japanese, gesturing to the rest of Akira's gang in the process.

It seemed to be as good an opportunity as ever for the thieves. To be able to skip the tourist line when waiting for their bus? That would be perfect. 

After having discussed their options, Haru decided that the group should go with the young man instead of wait in line.

"Dude, doesn't he remind you of someone?" Ryuji whispered over to Akira.

Akira couldn't quite pin why, but the young man sounded familiar--something about his voice. He nodded and looked over to Makoto, who was absorbed in a book. Beside her, Ann was absorbing the countryside near the airport as Yusuke brought out his drawing materials. This was nearly the fifth time he had taken them out since landing. The boy was dedicated to his inspirations.

"Sorry if this seems rude, but since I'm not being tipped, do you mind if you could put your luggage in the back by yourselves?"

Akira nodded once more, looking over to Koichi, who seemed to be concerned about the whole affair. Why? Tourist traps were common in Japan, but he had no clue about Italy. 

He finished putting the team's bags in the trunk of the van and started approaching Koichi and the driver… only for the van to suddenly take off without them.

"Oh my!" Haru exclaimed.

"Dude, what the eff just happened?!" Ryuji yelled in confusion, prompting the rest of their party to snap out of their shock except for Futaba, who had been invested in her video game console since arrival. Similarly, Morgana was still fast asleep from the plane ride in his handbag.

"Umm… I think our bags have just been stolen." said Makoto in a rather deadpan fashion. Hoping to remain calm in the situation, she and Ann left to go ask the airport security about their runaway driver. Since the airport guards knew English, Ann agreed to translate for Makoto in order to get the information that they needed. 

It proved fruitless, however, as all they were able to get from the staff was just a name and a broad description. Nothing specific that could lead to deducing where the Italian blonde was heading next.

"Yeah, the kid's name is Giorno Giovanna. Don't know much else about him aside from the fact that he's actually half-Japanese and dresses a bit funny...Wait, now that I think about it, his hair used to be a dark black, but it recently turned a distinct blonde. From what I hear, he didn't dye it or nothing either. I don't know what else to say." said the officer. Something about him screamed suspicious to Akira--like he knew more but decided to withhold info from them. Either way, Akira already had too many unpleasant experiences with guys like him: just more useless adults. Makoto walked back to the group, disappointment showing on her face.

Well either way, it was now official. The Phantom Thieves--the notorious Japanese group that focused on stealthily stealing the hearts of criminal authority figures--had been robbed blind. Morgana will have a fit once he wakes up from his nap.

As Koichi ran after the van, Akira followed closely behind. For some reason, the van was parked in the middle of the road, but Giovanna had disappeared. He exhaled in relief that at least they would still have their bags. 

"Where did he go? Why did the car stop?" He asked Koichi expectedly.

"Oh! The van broke down all of the sudden, and the kid decided to escape on foot… I wouldn't worry about him right now though. I'm just glad we got our luggage back. It's a good thing that we're heading to the same hotel though, yeah?" 

The situation seemed all too convenient for Akira's liking, but he decided not to press Koichi on the issue. As the other thieves caught up to Akira now out of breath, he woke up Morgana in order to explain the situation to him. 

"You mean you FORGOT everything I've taught you in the past year, and SOMEHOW a random thief almost got away with all of our luggage? I'm severely disappointed in all of you, ESPECIALLY you Akira. I would be more upset if you hadn't gotten the bags back, but expect me to give you some sort of punishment when we get to the hotel."

Akira ignored him. It was always like this with Morgana. Either him or Ryuji or someone else makes a mistake, and Morgana uses it as an excuse to talk down to them. Then again, he can't really blame the cat too much. Morgana has been rather… aloof since he learned he wasn't turning into a human anytime soon, and this coupled together with his lack of purpose after the Metaverse disappeared. Akira honestly felt sort of bad for the guy. It was a cruel thing. To pine after something so long and then to suddenly have the carpet pulled under you. He figured he'd just let the cat have this before he would set him aside to provide therapy for Morgana go discuss his issues. Maybe Maruki could help.

Rolling his eyes, Akira grabbed the cool metal exterior of the trunk and yanked it open in order to take back what had almost been stolen from them. Only for a bunch of frogs to suddenly jump out from the trunk instead. 

What?!

The rest of the team seemed equally shocked as well as Koichi. 

Something about this made Akira's skin crawl. He knew that Giorno Giovanna and the frogs must be connected, but he had no clue why. It was impossible for the kid to have stolen all of their luggage and replaced it with frogs in the time that Koichi had caught up with him. So _how did he do exactly that?_ It didn't make sense.

As the rest of the gang panicked about their lost luggage, Akira made a split second decision. He whispered to Morgana.

"Hey, I know this may seem strange, but can you follow those frogs for me? If you do, I'll be sure to give you whatever seafood dish we eat first here in Italy." Akira often followed his hunches. This was no different.

Morgana jumped out of his bag, looking bad to Akira and nodding.

"I'll meet you back here once I'm done."

Giving Morgana a sly thumbs-up, he saw the cat disappear into the storm drain where the frogs had left from. Turning around to face his friends, Akira looked over to Koichi giving him a perplexed expression. His hand was scratching his chin awkwardly.

"Is it really okay for you to let your cat wander off in a foreign country by itself?"

He quickly explained to Koichi that Morgana was indeed a "good boy" who was actually very smart and capable. According to Akira, his cat most likely needed to go to the bathroom, and he would most likely return to him afterwards. Akira realized how strange of a cat-owner he must sound, but Koichi just chuckled nervously in response as though he had dealt with weirder people on a daily basis.

Now that he thought about it, Morioh did have some pretty "out there" people in it from what he remembered.

Although their luggage had disappeared, the rest of the group still had their most important items with them. Phone? Check. Wallet? Check. Purse? Check. Thankfully, Haru would still be able to get to them to the hotel. Now, they just had to wait at the sidewalk for Morgana to return. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for Koichi.

Koichi split from the group soon after, claiming that he needed to call someone on a payphone to have them wire money to him. Akira figured it was his father… then again, what parent lets their child go on a trip to Italy alone?

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. Maybe it was a good thing that Koichi had split from them afterall.

Akira figured he might as well write a memo in his journal to remember that about Koichi. He reached into his back pocket only for his blood to go cold.

Although his team already knew about it and he had prepared a fake version for his probation officer, Akira Kurusu took meticulous notes on the escapades of the Phantom Thieves alongside his daily life. Morgana had encouraged it as well, believing that by recording everything he could possibly learn more about the Metaverse as well.

Giorno Giovanna--by taking the luggage of Akira Kurusu and his friends--had acquired the one piece of concrete evidence that could lead to arrest of all the Phantom Thieves.

Fuck.

\--01 / 02-- Daytime

Morgana followed the frogs, curious as to why Akira would order him to follow them. It's not like the Metaverse was still around anymore. Still, Morgana would do anything to impress his team, especially lady Ann. 

Suddenly, the frogs stopped and made a sudden turn at the sewers, leaping out of a different storm drain that connected to a park.

Bingo. There, Giorno Giovanna stood talking to a man dressed in a pale orange and yellowish trench coat carrying a metallic shovel. Oddly enough, the man appeared to be crying, despite furiously yelling at Giorno. Morgana wondered if the situation was dangerous or not for Giorno before sighing that Giorno had brought this upon himself after all.

Still, why were the frogs following him? 

The frogs leaped over to Giorno, and the man raised his shovel to strike at Giorno.

Morgana didn't know what happened next. Immediately after he had struck Giorno, the man's head folded in on itself, making a disgusting "CRACK" sound as his flesh warped and brain matter spilt out from the wound. Morgana stared in disbelief before promptly vomiting. 

Did he just die? Morgana shuddered. 

Had Giorno killed him? No, that wasn't possible. He hadn't even touched the man.

Nonetheless, Giorno's cold, calculating blue eyes stared apathetically at the presumed-to-be-corpse. How could someone just watch someone die like it was nothing?

Who were they dealing with?

Giorno picked up one of the frogs from the ground before placing the others in a smaller pet container. Then, to Morgana's disbelief, the frog he held transformed into a book, its flesh taking on a brownish cover and warping into paper. Curious, Giorno inspected the book carefully before opening to read it. As soon as Morgana saw the title, he gulped.

Plain as day, the title read "Akira Kurusu PT Probation Journal." By sheer coincidence, Giorno Giovanna quickly became priority number one for the Phantom Thieves. He was the only non-confidant to learn of their identities, methods, and actions with the only recorded physical trace of their activity aside from their phones. 

Giorno's eyes widened in shock before he plotted on what to do with this newfound information. He headed towards the subway as he read. He'd head back into town for now. Though the book's strange description of the Phantom Thieves Metaverse adventures would cause skepticism in anyone else, Giorno knew better than that, and he also knew how he was going to use this information to his advantage.

\--01 / 02-- Afternoon

The book was certainly very interesting. While he was certainly sympathetic to Akira Kurusu's situation regarding having been falsely accused of assault, Giorno Giovanna wasn't truly invested until he learned about the so-called "Metaverse." Phantom Thieves delving into one's mind in order to steal the manifestation of one's distorted desires? It lined up with what he was hearing in the news from Japan at least. Twisted authority figures confessing their crimes after having been sent a calling card? Giorno could respect that.

One thing in particular stood out to him.

 _Persona._ Could that explain his ability to give life? 

Somehow, he doubted it. Reading, Giorno ate while he pondered the existence of the Phantom Thieves. Truth be told, they weren't too dissimilar. Both wanted to uproot those in authority to enact reform. Giorno was just more willing to get his hands dirty.

He looked up from his book to see none-other than Koichi Hirose approaching him.

How useless.

\--01 / 02-- Afternoon

Akira Kurusu was rightfully stressed out. Morgana had returned and informed them of Giorno's interaction with the other man. If Giorno so desired, Akira could be sitting in jail right now along with the rest of his friends. The possibility of a life sentence wasn't off the table either. 

Shit.

He discussed their options with his team. If Giorno were to turn them in, then they'd need to make a backup plan. Memories of November quickly came back to his mind. He'd have to avoid that at all costs. He didn't want for his friends to experience the same torture he had at the hands of dirty cops. As they left for the hotel Haru had managed to reserve for them with her abundant wealth, they left in a worried silence. Even Ryuji, who had caused Makoto to discover their identities because of his vocal nature, was oddly silent. Stress hung over their heads.

Having explained his dream to the team, they responded with concern. At the suggestion of changing Giorno's heart, he tested the app, but to no avail, the boy did not have a palace. He wasn't even in Mementos.

It wasn't until they reached their destination did they hear from Giorno.

How did he get his phone number? Kurusu then remembered that he had written it in the journal.

"I know your identities." Giorno said over the phone.

"...What do you want? Why haven't you turned us in yet?" Yusuke asked.

"I won't unless it comes to that. Instead, I've got an offer for you; I won't turn you into the authorities if you change the heart of one man." 

This was beginning to sound familiar to Akira. He looked over to the rest of the group. Ryuji had his fists clenched in frustration. He didn't know what to do at this point. Futaba already began to track down Giorno's phone's GPS location, and the rest were waiting in anticipation, crowding around Akira's phone. Having no other choice, Akira spoke up.

"...Who is it?"

"Nobody knows his name, but I want you to change the heart of the man responsible for the drug trade in this city as well as a good portion of Italy."

"Do you have any other information regarding him?"

Next, Giorno said something that frightened the Phantom Thieves.

"He's the boss of the Italian mafia known as Passione. Let's make a pact. I'll be joining it tomorrow at the recommendation of an ally, and I'll need one of you to come with me as insurance."

Akira gulped. Joining a foreign mafia wasn't how he wanted his vacation to be playing out.

**I am thou, thou art I…  
Thou hast acquired a new vow.**

**It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.**

**With the birth of the JESTER Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.**

Something about the situation was very familiar to Joker. After all, several of the Phantom Thieves had joined following blackmailing them into performing some change of heart. It was almost nostalgic to a degree. 

\--01 / 03-- Early Morning

Akira waited outside the hotel front as Giorno had asked him to. Staring up at the red overhang of the entrance, he patted his chest. _Good._ The microphone and camera were still there. The rest of the team will be able to listen in on Akira and Giorno. 

That was a comforting thought.

A man dressed in a custom white suit adorned with a pattern of black dots followed behind Giorno as they approached Akira Kurusu. 

"You must be Akira Kurusu, correct? I'm Bruno Bucciarati. Giorno has told me much about you. We should find somewhere to talk privately before your initiation. Don't worry, I know how to speak Japanese quite well." 

In all truth, Bruno had met with Polpo earlier and informed him about both Akira and Giorno, and upon his request, Polpo had set him up with a stand-user that would allow him to speak and understand Japanese fluently. Furthermore, Bruno got the rest of the gang in on it too, just so that there wouldn't be any problem in communication between anyone. The only one opposed to it was Abbaccio, who was still hesitant to accept any new members to the group without suspicion. 

Akira gulped and nodded his head. This was a real foreign gangster. Not like the wannabe, money-hungry punks like that host Tsukasa or Kaneshiro who manipulated and blackmailed others in order to push drugs, force debts, or coerce people into selling their bodies. Something about this guy told Akira that he wouldn't rely on such underhanded methods to get what he wanted. Chances are that he didn't need to.

This guy could get someone to do what he wanted with his own force alone. Like Giorno, Bucciarati had a sharp air of danger to him. The features on his face formed an indifferent expression--one that could only belong to an experienced professional in their line of work. However, whereas Giorno's felt like it was tempered by his natural charisma and his outward wit, Bruno's was much more intense, as though it was elevated by some deep-seated aspect of Bruno's personality. Akira couldn't tell what that could be for the life of him.

A stray thought worried Akira. This guy has killed people before.

Akira pushed it to the back of his mind. He was in a whole different ball game now. He didn't have the luxury to think like that if he was going to survive.

Walking in silence behind Bruno, he looked back to see Giorno reading something on his phone. He hoped it wasn't anything important.

As they crossed the street, Akira heard the sound of something fall and hit the ground with a sickening splat. He turned immediately to the source.

An old lady had dropped her walking stick and had collapsed at the side of the crosswalk. Akira jolted into action to help, only for someone to beat him to the punch. Bruno Bucciarati had picked the old lady up and brought her across the street as she apologized sweetly.

"Oh thank you so much, Bruno. You're such a sweet young man. To help out a little old lady like me," the woman continued, "what could this town ever do without you?"

As Bruno embarrassedly scratched his head and assured the safety of the grandma, Akira reflected on the situation. Maybe Bruno wasn't that bad. Either way, the thought gave him the courage to continue forward, not noticing how Bruno somehow managed to get to the old lady first despite not being as close to her as Akira. As he finished crossing the street, Bruno quickly met back up with him. The two quickly moved into a desolate alley.

"Now, before we begin, let me ask you a question." Bruno started, "Back in your home country, did you or your guardians pay their taxes?"

Akira nodded. The Italian man's face sharpened downwards. He leaned on the red brick wall of the building beside them.

"Then why do you want to join a foreign mafia? If it's for fame, girls, or money, I'll do you a mercy and kill you here and now. Those motivations only lead to death in this business."

Already, the difference between Kaneshiro and Bruno was huge. Considering the menacing, tough-guy attitude displayed towards Akira's friends when they went to save Makoto and the insecurities that were echoed in the Yakuza's palace, one-dimensional gangsters like Kaneshiro merely imitated the strength and danger possessed by the real thing. The "real thing" didn't bother themselves by threatening teenagers with blackmail just for pocket change, and they certainly didn't attempt to unwillingly force kids into joining the criminal underworld. At least, not without some hesitation and sympathy for the kids as they entered a dark world where the sharks at the top will chew them up and spit them back out as completely different, desensitized individuals.

No, the real thing was aware that the world they worked in was terrible and varied. They didn't put on a facade of toughness because they actually were tough, having witnessed the worst of what man had to offer countless times and been forced to make the hard decisions that others wouldn't. The real thing compromised their morality, but they still possessed some degree of nobility to them. Akira witnessed it firsthand through Iwai and Tsuda-san (after his heart changed). Bruno was the same, and he was all the more deadly because of it. 

Giorno, he supposed, was too, but he might have been more willing to blackmail the Phantom Thieves into joining considering they already _were_ part of a criminal organization.

Akira had to think fast. He couldn't tell Bucciarati that he was being forced to join because of Giorno Giovanna. That'd just put both of them in hot water. His thoughts drifted back to the events of the last 6 months.

_What's the matter...? Are you simply going to watch?_

As he recalled the beginning of his journey, Arsene's words once again echoed through his entire being.

_Are you forsaking him to save yourself?_

He thought back to that fateful day. The day when everything changed. 

_Death awaits him if you do nothing._

He remembered the iron grip of the knights who pinned him to the wall as he watched Ryuji's execution.

_Was your previous decision a mistake then?_

No. It wasn't and will never be a mistake. He vowed to himself that he'd enact his justice on those who would force untold hardships onto those who abused their authority.

This situation was no different. It may be a foreign country, but this drug problem was another case of adults selfishly using others for their own gain. He wouldn't let it stand regardless of whether or not he was blackmailed.

The answer to why he wanted to join Passione was obvious. Why was he so willing to break the law as a Phantom Thief? It was the very same deal.

"I want to join Passione because of injustice."

Bruno recoiled in shock. First Giorno, now this Akira Kurusu kid. He smiled, but he kept silent in order to let Akira finish. It was now or never.

"Back home, I experienced it firsthand. One day when I came home from school, I stopped a rape in progress. However, nobody believed me. The adults and authority figures were all too willing to stick me with an assault charge on my record as the rapist got to walk home freely. If I must break the law for my justice, I will. As long as people take advantage of others, I will."

Nodding his head, Bruno agreed. As to why, Akira did not know.

"Very well. You have my approval. The next portion of the initiation, however, is up to you and Giorno to complete together. We'll discuss this more when you're better… equipped to say the least."

As the two turned to meet back up with Giorno, Akira could only speculate the meaning behind Bruno's words. What did he mean by "equipped?"

Joined back up, the three all began walking south towards a prison. He looked over a Giorno only to receive no response.

He pulled out his phone and texted him.

AKIRA: Why didn't you tell him about the PTs?

It's not like Giorno gave them a good reason to trust him after all. He not only robbed them, but he was now blackmailing them into the crossfire of gang warfare.

So why did Akira resonate with him?

Giorno looked over to Akira with a furrowed expression.

GIORNO: I made a promise. 

Huh. Maybe Giorno was more trustworthy than he thought. Judging from the look on Giorno's face though, he didn't seem like one for useless conversation. Akira decided that he'd just accept Giorno at his word and left it at that.

The two approached the prison alone as Bruno waited outside.

As the guards began searching Giorno, Akira had to think fast. The Phantom Thieves didn't think that Akira would be inspected at a prison. He had to find some way to hide the wires on him. The guard started moving closer. Akira thought fast. What was the one place that the female guard likely wouldn't check?

Shit. Akira knew exactly where, but he wasn't a fan.

Akira needed a distraction to let him adjust the microphone and hidden camera. Lifting his elbow to his face, Akira fake-coughed violently to cover up him moving the recording devices. 

\--01 / 03-- Early Morning

As the crew watched through Akira's hidden camera, the video appeared to cut-out as the screen darkened. 

"Hey, what happened? It was just getting good!" Ryuji complained.

Chewing on a bucket of popcorn with Yusuke, Futaba responded.

"I don't know. He must have entered a dark room or something. I'll try brightening the feed and resolution to get it back on."

Yusuke looked up from his sketchbook as he waited for the video to return. Haru had gone to make coffee with Morgana, and Makoto was too busy intensely staring at the screen. Ann, in comparison, was too busy sleeping on the couch. It appeared as though she had the utmost confidence in Akira.

It was just like her favorite movies. This was where the protagonist would swear his oath to the boss. Her fists were tightly clenched. She wished for Akira's safety above all, but she couldn't help but nerd out at the scenario. What was going to happen next?

As the screen lit up again, it revealed where Akira's location was, or rather where the location of the camera was. 

As Haru entered the room with a platter holding several tea cups of coffee on it, she saw it. The screen--as clear as day--gave the thieves a full view of Akira's… appendage. 

"Oh my!"

Chaos broke loose all at once. Futaba had covered her eyes fully and screamed; Yusuke was far too busy with his drawings to notice anything wrong; Ryuji just looked flat out disgusted; Ann slept like a rock; and Morgana was unperturbed. The cat didn't have an understanding of nudity. It's not like he wore clothes.

The interesting one was Makoto. She was still staring at the screen, as though she was burning the image permanently into her memory; then, she did the responsible thing: she calmly walked over to the computer and closed it to stop the camera feed. How responsible, thought Haru, not recognizing the small perverted grin on Makoto's face. 

\--01 / 03-- Early Morning

He'd have to apologize to the team later if they saw anything. Though successful, Akira had cast aside his pride. As Giorno and him passed through the verdant, dimly-lit hallway to meet with Polpo, the two looked around for the man only to see a glass room with an ornately-designed yellow bed placed in the corner.

"Your left hand… your right leg… did you two injure yourselves?"

… The duo retreated slightly in shock as the bed stood up and transformed into a monolith of a man.

Akira could only think of one thing: his first day at Shujin Academy. 

Polpo reminded him of Principal Kobayakawa to an unnerving degree. However, their sizes weren't even comparable. Polpo was absolutely massive.

He pointed at Giorno.  
"It's just on your right hand," Polpo leaned towards them, "but the fingers are slightly red, like you were holding something. Lines like that would be left after holding a bag. Which would mean that you were holding a bag in your right hand up until now. Why's that?"

He paused and moved his attention onto Akira.

"And you've been walking with a limp from your right leg ever since you came in here. You're either hiding something in your right pants leg or you've injured it."

Akira gulped. He looked over at Giorno, who was as impassive as ever. Did anything ever get to this guy?

Giorno was the first to speak up.  
"Well, uh, you're right. I was holding a bag with my right hand," Giorno took a step back and grabbed his left arm subconsciously, "because as you observed, I hurt my left arm. Additionally, my friend here twisted his ankle on the way here." Giorno gestured to Akira.

Akira said nothing.

Polpo leaned back and laughed melancholically.  
"I envy your ability to be so reckless with your bodies." Polpo popped open the mini-fridge in his cell. He moved to grab a bottle of wine and a glass from it.

"Would you two like some wine?" Polpo smiled as he offered two separate glasses to the two teens. He brought up the bottle to show them the label.

"I have some exquisite Chianti Classico. It pairs perfectly well with some Scamorza cheese and caviar on a cracker."

Despite working with tons of imported goods and foods in Leblanc, Akira had no idea what brands those were. Apparently Giorno did, and his features twisted as though they were familiar to him.

Polpo opened the bottle and began pouring his own glass with wine.

"We've been told that we're not allowed to give anything or receive anything from you." Giorno looked impassive.

Akira spoke up.

"Furthermore, the two of us are still underage." Akira added.

Polpo sighed mockingly.  
"They're just saying that. What people say and what they do…" Polpo pointed a remote at the side of his wall.

"...are vastly different."

The new compartment of the cell revealed various prison contraband. A CRT TV. A DVD player. Some video game consoles. Several firearms with live ammunition. A violin. And a brown teddy-bear oddly enough.

Clearly, Akira had underestimated Polpo's resources. Either way, he had used the opportunity to readjust the camera hidden in his pants to its prior position, allowing for the Phantom Thieves to have full view of the array of objects. That had taken even Giorno for surprise as well.

"That's the best and worst thing about people. The only downside to being in this cell is… well… The fact that I can't admire Michaelangelo's great painting in the Sistine Chapel."

Back at the hotel, Yusuke nodded his head in approval.

Either way, it was obvious. Polpo could leave anytime he wanted, but why would he when he's got everything he wants with him as well as police security? To Akira, he was just another person taking advantage of corrupt authorities. To Giorno, he was smart to do so.

The two would have to discuss their differences in perspectives at some point.

"Bucciarati has told me all about you two." He reached over to grab a cracker on his bedside table.

"So you two wish to join our organization… Hmm… Giorno Giovanna and Akira Kurusu, was it? Forgive me, I'm not very skilled at Japanese pronunciation."

He brought the cracker to his mouth and turned his massive body towards them.

"Then why don't we get the interview started?" Polpo started chewing on the cracker.

Akira heard a sickening crunch and looked back up at Polpo. The man was taking bites from his own fingers like it was nothing. As he bit down, blood spurted from his fingertips. Even Giorno seemed perturbed... Who exactly were they dealing with? Before Akira or Giorno could say anything, a coo-coo clock grabbed their attention.

The two looked back at Polpo.

The man's fingers were perfectly fine. How? Did they grow back? That was impossible. Were their eyes tricking them? Were they going crazy? Either way, Giorno couldn't let him find out that he was a stand user. Doing so would put both of them at risk. Sweat dripped down Giorno's face.

Polpo downed his glass of wine before gesturing to the lit lighter in his right hand.

"What do you two think is the most important thing when it comes to choosing someone, Giorno Giovanna and Akira Kurusu?" Polpo looked at them, waiting for their response.

Giorno rotated his body towards Polpo once more.  
"Is it what they're capable of?"

Polpo turned the tables on him.  
"Ooh? And what exactly are you capable of?"

Giorno raised his arms and opened his palms, dropping a wallet and several bills onto the ground.

Polpo nevertheless was impressed.

"I borrowed a few things when she was patting me down. I thought that these would be useful for your test."

Akira admitted. That was smart of Giorno.

"Of course, I'll be returning them to her when I leave."

Polpo laughed.

"Do you have anything else?"

"Other than that, the only skill I have is being able to completely fold my ear into my head."

Akira was curious. He honestly wanted to see that.

Polpo laughed even harder.

"That is very amusing," Polpo continued, "and you, what do you believe is most important?"

Akira shared his answer.  
"Is it how reliable they are as people? How trustworthy they are to you?"

Polpo gave him a grin of approval.

"That's exactly right. The most important thing when it comes to choosing people is trust." Polpo's fingers began itching at his mouth, "In comparison, being smart or being talented means as much as this piece of cracker stuck in my teeth."

Polpo flicked the cracker goo at the glass. It reminded him of Kaneshiro to a degree when it came to operating with money above all things. Admittedly, it was slightly more noble in its own way.

Polpo once again gestured to the lit lighter in his hand.

"This test is about seeing how trustworthy you are...with this lighter's flame."

Akira gulped. Something unreasonable was coming.

Polpo passed the lighter through a hole in the wall to Giorno. 

"Take it, and make sure the flame doesn't go out."

Giorno moved to grab it, almost extinguishing it in the process.

"Whoa there. Be extra careful to make sure the flame doesn't go out." Polpo stuck out his index finger.

"Fuller, the 17th-century theologian, said "He's my friend who speaks well of me behind my back." In order to join our organization, you'll have to show how trustworthy you are when we can't see you."

Akira stared at the flickering flame.

"For 24 hours, you two will hold on to that lighter without letting the flame go out. If you both can cooperate to do that, I'll approve of the two of you joining our organization." Polpo lowered his hand.

"Simple, right?"

Akira looked over at Giorno again, and he nodded in response.

"The lighter has plenty of fluid in it. All you two have to do is to sit quietly in your rooms until 3 P.M. tomorrow and make sure the flame doesn't go out. If you're careful men who'll work hard to make sure it doesn't go out, the flame shouldn't go out."

Polpo pointed at Akira this time.

"Which means you're someone we can trust. However… If you're men who take us too lightly, and one of you fall asleep, sneeze, or knock it over, or a sudden wind blows the flame out, then… It means you're both untrustworthy, and I can't allow either one of you to join."

Giorno looked over at Akira.

"Now, take the lighter. This is your entrance exams."

Giorno carefully leaned forward and slowly grabbed the lighter, gently taking it as to not let the flame go out. Akira and him began walking out from the hallway, and Giorno gestured to Akira as if to let him know that he'd be taking care of the lighter for now.

"You have 24 hours. I'm looking forward to seeing you come visit me again tomorrow at 3 P.M."

As Giorno panicked over the second body inspection, Akira worried about how Giorno shall take care of the lighter like this. However, he first needed to worry about himself. He had to hide the camera again, and how were they going to deal with this for 24 hours?

Hiding the camera back where it was previously, he could only pray for Giorno to successfully hide the lighter from the female guard.

Grabbing his belongings, Akira moved outside to wait for Giorno. He could never tell what that guy was thinking.

As soon as Giorno exited from the prison gates, Akira and him began discussing the elephant in the room.

He knew what Giorno was going to ask him to do.

"I need you to go to Polpo's Palace and find all the information you can on the boss before tomorrow. Meet back up with me at around 7 today with your team. Try to have it done by then."

That gave Akira around 4 hours to infiltrate a foreign palace.

However, despite his frustration towards the blond, Akira had to ask Giorno one thing.

"Why did you believe the journal?"

Giorno was taken aback, as if he didn't expect it. He quickly recovered his composure before I responded.

"Because you and your friends, Akira Kurusu, don't seem like bad people."

That just made things more complicated.

It was possible if they weren't trying to steal the heart.

Somewhere else, the team had already begun guessing the keywords.

"Polpo."

_"Match found."_

The new nav worked as well as the old, minus the new delay time. Makoto had gotten lucky though. Akira entered the room to see his friends already hard at work. He grinned. A part of him was slightly glad that the team wouldn't be splitting up and ceasing their adventures anytime. He stopped himself.

This was different. They were dealing with actual, competent killers this time. Outside of Akechi, they had no experience dealing with murderers. These guys could kill one of them and not bat an eye. 

Surprisingly enough, Polpo was an orphan. He had no last name to speak of. 

That made the infiltration more convenient, thought Makoto. She had a good idea of what the others will be.

"Naples Prison."

_"Match found."_

Ryuji gripped his wrist in anticipation. He leaned forward on the couch of their luxury suite. What could the third one be? The only postulate based on how Polpo was treated in prison. Akira could guess what the next keyword could be, but he'd rather see his team work through it. It was nostalgic.

"Church?" Asked Ryuji, receiving nothing in response.

Futaba and Yusuke waited in excitement.  
Makoto then spoke up.

"Sanctuary."

_"Match found."_

Another hit. 

_"Beginning transportation now."_

As the robotic voice confirmed it, the distinct waves of red, black, and purple washed over them. Ripples were made with each of their steps. 

All around them, the city streets and buildings were replaced by navy blue paper. 

Desolate. Polpo's cognition of Naples showed one thing: to a man locked up away from the rest of society, the city was--for all intensive purposes--a series of blueprints stacked upon each other. The layout of the city was flattened and laid bare. 

"I assume that because he's inside prison all day, the only real interaction he needs with the outside world is with his gang." Makoto stated.

"You don't think that the only time he's looked outside in days past is through paintings and blueprints, do you?" Asked Yusuke.

It was true. The buildings and streets had been reduced to flattened versions of themselves, and the sky was a watercolor cyan. He almost pitied Polpo. Clearly, his size had prevented him from viewing the outside in a long time.

The only building in sight was a prison surrounded by giant brick walls covered in grapevines. Joker activated his third eye to look closer.

On top of the building, Bruno Bucciarati along with several other figures stood, all dressed in the guard uniforms he had seen the female guard wear earlier. The gangsters of Passione were dressed as cops.

Futaba did reconnaissance with her persona Prometheus. Flying higher as to see what laid beyond the wall, she could only see one thing: a giant pillar of fire surrounded by shadow. Behind it, a single glass room loomed over the rest of the prison. Something was off. It was as though--despite the size of the palace being proportional to the amount of distortion within Polpo's heart--it was a "mini-palace." Like something was preventing the palace from fully forming.

Polpo's shadow looked nothing like the man. Instead, he was a pitch-black silhouette of a robotic figure wearing something that looked like medieval Italian clothes that seemed like it would belong to some royalty or priest. 

Huh. The chonkster must have some weird cognition about themselves, thought Futaba.

As she informed the team about the layout of the prison, Joker's face noticeably darkened.

There were no shadows. Only the cognitions of the gangsters.

There was no heart to steal. Did the new nav allow people to enter the cognitions of others without distortions? Polpo must not have any distorted desires then. How could you kill people and not have some form of cognitive dissonance? It didn't make any sense. 

"Hey, Morgana. What's your opinion on this?"

The cat looked down at the ground. He was equally confused. 

"Perhaps someone can be distorted without having desires?" The only feasible explanation was that Polpo's soul truly did not have a lot of distorted desires. 

As the group approached the gate to the sanctuary, the cognitions jumped down from the top of the wall.

"Halt intruder!" 

Cognitive Bruno had blocked him off from the rest of the group using… zippers? 

"What the!? What sort of weird cognition does this Polpo guy have that allows this guy to summon zippers out of nowhere?" Ryuji asked.

The other figures along with Bruno remained perfectly still, as if they were waiting for orders from the guard.

"Only this one has permission to see the boss."

Bruno spawned a zipper that split the ground beneath Akira and the other Phantom Thieves, separating them by creating a gap in the blueprint floor.

"You cannot aid him in his exam."

Exam? Did he mean the lighter test? The cognition gestured to Joker to pass through the gates as the rest of the group attempted to find a way around the crevice.

Akira entered the prison. His vision flooded with greenery. In the middle of the garden, the pillar of flame stood. That's not what got his attention though.

Surrounding the flame, the ground became a pitch-black color. Akira moved closer to it.

Something had grabbed his neck.

He couldn't breathe. Fingers tightened around his neck.

"This is where those who've threatened our capo were disposed of."

Joker opened his eyes. Black silhouettes sprouted from the ground beneath him as Bruno increased his grip.

"Joker! We're coming!"

Ryuji ran towards him only to be split into several body parts. It was as though they had been unzipped from his body.

What was going on? 

In her motorcycle form, Anat slammed into the side of Bruno, causing him to release Joker. Makoto leaned over to grab Akira from the ground. 

He looked over to where Bruno was. The cognition stood up. His body started to spasm as tendrils of shadows and zippers erupted.

Not wanting to meet the same fate as Ryuji, the rest of the team picked up his body parts and ran. They didn't have the time to deal with this. They needed to get the info from Polpo on the boss.

Akira jumped onto Makoto's back as they drove away on Anat with the Mona-bus following close behind them.

As they darted towards Polpo's shadow, who was located in the glass cell from earlier, black tentacles shot out from the ground in order to stop them.

"Why do you invade my paradise?"

Shadow Polpo floated over to Akira.

"Did you think you could avoid dealing with Black Sabbath if you did this? I admit, it's a cunning plan."

Black Sabbath? What did American music have to do with this?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Joker summoned Arsene as he jumped off from the speeding motorcycle. As he flew forward, he gripped his knife with his backhand. 

Why did this seem so easy? It was as though Polpo's palace was handicapped in some way. Infiltration was normally never this easy.

He launched towards the shadow, tackling him down and holding his knife to his neck.

The shadow laughed.

"Wow, I haven't had this much entertainment in a while. Not since the boss stationed me here as a capo at least."

The shadow's head shot back in amusement. Joker glared at it.

"Tell me more about this boss unless you want your head to come off your shoulders."

It just laughed harder.

"Kid, do you take me for an amateur? I can tell empty threats from real ones. You don't got the guts. Comes with the job."

Tch. No luck..

Shadow Polpo spoke up again.  
"I think I've taken a liking to you. As for the boss, it's not like I know anything that I could tell you. Nobody knows his name. We don't even know if it's a _he_ anyways."

Joker looked down in disappointment. Outside of Okumura, shadows of palace rulers rarely lied. 

"I will tell you one thing though: there's apparently one person he's in direct contact with. I don't know anything beyond that, unfortunately for you."

His head shot back up. _That was at least something._

"Either way, I doubt you'll be able to do anything to him. Personally, I just can't wait to see how you do with the exam. If you awaken to a stand, then that'd make you useful as a soldier for me."

A stand? Must be nonsense.

The shadow tendrils and guards that surrounded them stopped their pursuit as Polpo led them out of the sanctuary.

"Good luck on your test. Try not to die."

As the group returned to reality, they discussed Polpo's words. What did he mean by stand? How did a lighter threaten someone's life? What was the deal with those cognitions? Why was this palace so usually weak? Shouldn't the mind of a killer be more distorted?

None of it made sense. At least they got what Giorno wanted from Polpo.

\--01 / 03-- Evening

The Phantom Thieves exited the brass doors of their luxury hotel and began walking down to the designated location to meet with Giorno. Despite visiting a palace, they were oddly surprised to not be exhausted. As they walked down the black road, they discussed their findings in Polpo's palace and began preparations.

Akira thought to himself, what made his stomach churn at the idea of invading someone's mind not to steal their treasure and force them to confess their sins but to instead interrogate them?

 _Akechi._ Even arrested, the second detective prince made him feel like he was a dark mirror of himself. Both suffered as a result of injustice caused by the same man no less. Akira tightened his fist.

How was what they were doing any different from Crow? Sure, they weren't killing anyone, but they were using the same methods as him. Interrogating the shadows of criminals in order to solve a mystery. It felt disingenuous. They should be taking the hearts of these criminals, not enabling them by not robbing them of their distorted desires when they had the opportunity. It went against their creed as Phantom Thieves. 

_Giorno Giovanna._ Akira sighed as he brought his right hand to his face. Should they really be doing this? He felt like they were doing it for the wrong reasons. The primary reason why they were was to just protect their identities. Yeah, they'd done the same in similar situations, but it _still_ felt selfish. Akira felt the same too regarding their previous palaces. Always, the primary reason behind it was that the palace rulers threatened them first, and the secondary reason was that it was the right thing to do. It felt like it was preventing him from pursuing the _true_ justice that he vowed to Arsene.

The next target to acquire information from would have to be none other than Bruno Bucciarati. They learned of a possible future target with Polpo, but they figured, since Polpo never left his cell, they'd be able to find more information on the boss by questioning someone else in Passione.

Still what has that? Why did Ryuji split into a million different pieces before being put back together again? The blond admitted that he almost shat himself when he thought he was going to die such a gruesome death. The others could only speculate.

University dorms. So Giorno really was a kid. As they approached the stairs of the stone building, Akira reiterated his warning to them.

"Remember: these guys are deadly. One step and we're done."

He had told them once before, but he couldn't stress it enough.

Akira looked around for Giorno, but to no avail, the italian must be busy and was running a little behind. Instead, his eyes landed promptly on the small figure of an old janitor.

The frail old man seemed to be struggling to carry a bucket of water down the school stairs; his wrinkled face strained considerably as he lifted the large bucket off the ground. 

"Do you need any help, sir?" 

The mustached janitor looked up at Ann, Akira, and Makoto with a smile.

"Don't worry about an old geezer like me. Just go have fun with your friends there."

Leaving the polite senior to his own devices, the gang leaned back against the staircase of the school as they waited for Giorno to arrive.

So after, they heard rapidly approaching footsteps from the top of the stairs. Giorno had finally arrived with the lighter in hand, still burning its flame.

Only for Giorno and consequently the lighter to be doused in cool mist. The janitor had accidentally put the lighter out.

"Shit." That's the first thing that comes out of Akira's mouth after witnessing the situation. Giorno looked down at the lighter, dejected. Time stood still as they space out.

As soon as the janitor asked what was wrong and relit the lighter, things got bad. _Fast._

The janitor began levitating off the ground. His face twisted in terror.

As though on impulse, Akira activated his third eye to see what was wrong, only to see Polpo's shadow--somehow now in the real world--holding up the janitor's head to his mouth. From the janitor's shade, Polpo's shadow grabbed another golden, transparent version of the man from his collar. Tossing aside the real janitor, he brought the new janitor's head to his mouth.

"You're the one who reignited the flame, aren't you?" It appeared as though only Akira and Giorno could see and hear Polpo's shadow. The rest of the group just ran over to the man's collapsed body to help. Ryuji checked the man's pulse and gave Akira a thumbs up. He paid it no heed.

"I'll give you one more chance. You have two possible paths." Shadow Polpo's mouth started to extrude something as it brought the head closer.

"The first path is to live and become a chosen one." An arrow tip emerged from the mouth's abyss.

"Your only other path is death. _You relit the lighter! This is your fate!_ " Akira's blood ran cold as the arrow extended, impaling the janitor's skull clean through before tearing it out from it again. The other body of the janitor flew back into Giorno's arms as Polpo's shadow tossed aside the golden one as though it was trash.

"This soul did not belong to one who should be chosen."

Giorno looked up at Akira. His face read it all. The old man was dead despite having no wounds.

Ryuji ran over to the man again to take his pulse. 

_Nothing._

His face mirrored Giorno's despair.

That shadow had killed this innocent old man.

Akira's face sharpened with anger. He didn't know what was going on, but all he saw was red. He sprinted at the figure, fist clenched.

"Don't--you won't be able to beat it!" Giorno yelled to no avail.

As Akira ran towards shadow Polpo, he jumped at the things head, ready to sock him in the chin.

The next thing he knew was that his fist had phased through the being, and Akira was being held face-down on the ground by that creature.

"You relit the lighter too, didn't you?"

Akira's anger simmered down, quickly replaced by fear as he saw the shadow pull out Akira's soul.

"I'll give you one more chance. You have two possible paths…"

"Akira!"

Giorno and his friends vaulted towards him too late.

The arrow re-emerged from the thing's mouth and dashed forward as to impale Akira's neck. Akira, thinking on his feet, speedily twisted his arm in order to catch the tip before it pierced him.

Only for the arrow to drive straight through his hand and into his neck anyways.

_…_

_...ALL SACRILEGIOUS ACTS FOR THINE OWN JUSTICE…_

_...A BATTLE TO THE DEATH BETWEEN FOREIGN GODS…_

_...THOUGH THOU BE CHAINED TO HELL ITSELF…_

Familiar but unidentifiable words rang through Akira's mind, warping and mixing together until they became too loud to decipher. His head burned with a blue flame, only for the flame to simmer down into nothing. 

Everything hurt. 

Akira's body summoned a supernatural strength as it cast aside the shadow into the brick wall besides them.

His team looked over at the broken wall in shock.

As if he had known them his whole life, the words left his lips without any thinking, deliberate action, or awareness on his part.

"Ravage them…" he pointed at the crumpled form of Polpo's shadow. A being identical to Arsene materialized behind him.

_"...THEY DON'T REALLY CARE ABOUT US…"_

The red figure pounced on Polpo's shadow like a kid in a playground fist fight. Stabbing at its face with its sharp claws in anger. Breaking the wall in front of him even further. It was like a bomb of red and black going off as tendrils of crimson caused what little life around them to age and decompose into nothingness. The shadow grabbed at the scarlet being's wrist to no avail. It just kept pushing, giving the finishing blow as it impaled the noir head of its opponent. In a burst of blood and shadow, its grip on the inside of the enemy's skull tightened, crushing it with terrifying strength as the demon pressed it into the ground further. The crater grew larger, bathing Polpo's shadow in rays of sunshine.

Torn to shreds, Polpo's shadow disappeared into the sunlight. The bone shards of the shadow's head faded into the light. All that was left behind was a single arrow.

Giorno Giovanna recoiled at the sight of the stand's violence as he walked over to the arrow. Whatever it was, it granted stands. A useful tool.

He looked over to the raging Akira and the confused expressions of the Phantom Thieves.

He had some explaining to do.

At least he would have, if Koichi Hirose hadn't shown up from behind the corner.


	2. Understanding and Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Koichi have a talk. The Phantom Thieves discuss their tastes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey again! Thank you for the kudos and whatnot! I find making this pretty fun! Thankfully, this chapter isn't nearly as long as the last one haha.

A stand is a manifestation of one's fighting spirit or soul. To kill a stand is to kill the user in most cases. At least, that's what Koichi told him. 

Then that meant Akira Kurusu had almost killed someone. If it weren't for _Black Sabbath_ being an automatic stand, Polpo's head would have been crushed by _They Don't Really Care About Us (TDRC)_. Akira could see it now. Images of Polpo's head crushed like a watermelon stirred through his mind, brain matter decorating the glass barrier of his cell.

So why did he feel so _alive_ when he beat down _Black Sabbath_?

His heartbeat sped up rapidly. His breathing was shallow. Though he didn't actually kill anyone, he came close to it. Just the thought of it was enough to make him vomit. How could he criticize Akechi for inducing mental shutdowns when he himself had compromised his own morals? How could he look Sojiro in the face and tell him that he had killed someone. How could he look any of the Thieves in the eye and tell them that he crushed someone's skull into tiny fragments of bone?

_How could he ever look Makoto in the eyes again?_

He really was no better than how the rumors of Shujin described him. He practically confirmed them by joining a gang.

He collapsed.

His knees hit the ground as he stared up at the sky.

Even if he had killed Polpo, it wouldn't change the fact that an innocent man died because of the actions of him and Giorno. He should have done better. He should have realized something was wrong.

He took a deep breath in order to calm himself down.

He needed to think this through.

If stands were the manifestation of one's soul, then they would inevitably be connected to one's persona as well. He gripped the arrow in his right hand tighter as Koichi talked to Giorno privately, away from the rest of their group. Fundamentally, the way they summoned a stand and a persona felt… strange to Akira. Like rather than coming from his will of rebellion, it came from his entire being.

Maybe that'd explain the irregular nature of Polpo's palace. Maybe that'd explain the "convert" option on the Metaverse Navigator. The team would have to experiment with it if they need to extract information from another stand user.

Why couldn't have Philemon been more clear? All he said was some mystic bullshit warning him about some unknown enemy.

He felt a hand place itself on his shoulder. Akira turned his head to the side. A concerned expression adorned her face. At her side, Ryuji, Yusuke, Ann, and Haru all looked down, as if they were ashamed. Futaba sat on the ground as she hugged Morgana. The feline normally would protest, but right now, he didn't seem to care. Futaba sniffled.

"We're sorry."

This confused Akira.

"Why are you sorry? You're not the one who almost killed someone out of anger."

"We're sorry that we didn't help you."

"That's not your fault and you guys know it. You don't have the third eye or stand abilities." He paused as he attempted to piece together his thoughts. "You couldn't see what was going on, and even if you had, you could have gotten hurt."

The arrow in his handle pulled in the direction of his friends, loosening his grip. Too caught up in his own problems, he failed to notice.

"Still though, Akira. If we had stepped in to help you after that old man died, you wouldn't be going through this shit alone. We should have effin protected you." The blonde delinquent looked down. "If you had actually killed someone, we should have been there to share that burden. We don't want to have you cross that line alone." Ryuji chipped in.

For all it was worth, Ryuji was probably one of the more emotionally adept members of the Phantom Thieves. He had no problem connecting with others. Even with all his issues, he always makes it his duty to help his friends.

Because of that, Ryuji could tell that this shit was definitely going to mess with Akira in the future. Sure, they had killed shadows, but this was... _different_. Not once since he met Akira in Kamoshida's castle had he seen him like this.

Akira felt another tug in his right hand, but he ignored it. He closed his eyes as he stood up.

He didn't need anyone to save him from himself. He was the one who saved others, not the other way around. A part of him was ashamed he had let his mask slip. 

It was humiliating to think that he had accidentally showed how pathetic he really was to the people who respected him the most.

He had worked so hard to build up that image of himself. He was Akira Kurusu: the mysterious delinquent who suavely punished the injust in secret.

Akira gritted his teeth was he tried to regain his composure.

"Thanks guys, I really appreciate it, but I don't need any of you killing someone else ever even if it is in self-defense. This isn't like the Metaverse where we can be revived. We don't know enough about stands yet, and--"

Akira was interrupted by a slap to the face from Makoto. Before he could ask why, he saw the tears run down from her eyes as her concern shifted to anger.

"You idiot!"

Another slap.

"Don't you see that this isn't on you to decide! Don't you realize after everything we've been through together that we want to help you! I can't stand to see you get hurt again! Not after I felt like a part of myself died when we saw your 'suicide' get announced on television!"

Ah. That. He hadn't realized how that interrogation could have affected them as well. Not when they didn't know whether or not their plan had worked.

The tugging sensation from his right hand grew stronger.

He pulled Makoto into a hug. He couldn't stand seeing them like this. They were relying on him to be strong, and he had failed them. The stinging feeling on his cheek was proof of that.

As she cried into his shoulder, he saw Giorno and Koichi walk back from the telephone where they left to discuss something.

Giorno looked guilty as he left, claiming that he needed to take care of the lighter and make a phone call to Bucciarati. Koichi gazed upon the scene sympathetically.

"Hey, I hate to interrupt something like this, but can I talk to Kurusu-kun for a second?" He nodded.

Though he hated to leave Makoto's embrace, he hated the vulnerability more, so he relented. Walking over to Koichi away from the rest of the group, he felt ashamed that two strangers--one from his hometown--had witnessed his weakness. He opened his mouth to apologize before Koichi cut him off.

"I sort of get it. The whole 'not wanting to kill' thing, I mean." Koichi scratched his hair in both embarrassment and sympathy.

"How?"

Koichi took a deep breath and began to collect his thoughts. Why was he doing this? Why was he trying to consol this teenager around his age?

Because it's what Josuke or Jotaro would probably do. Also, something about this Akira kid made him feel... well.. feel like he could talk to him about anything. He sort of reminded him of both Joestars, and he couldn't quite place the reason as to why. Much like Giorno, Akira seemed to be a very 'serene' person. But something about it was different.

Whereas Jotaro and even Giorno inspired him to improve himself and stick to what he believed, this guy seemed like a close friend who he could talk about anything with. Sort of like Josuke.

Perhaps Koichi didn't need a reason to be nice. So he began.

"One interesting statistic about Morioh is the fact that the missing persons percentage for it is far higher than any other town in Japan."

Akira gulped. Koichi seemed serious.

"Do you know why that is?" Akira shook his head as Koichi stuck his index finger up into the air.

"Because for the past few decades, a stand user by the name of Yoshikage Kira had been using his stand to kill young women in order to satisfy his fetish for hands. You were honestly lucky to leave town because of your probation."

Akira's blood went cold. He knew? How? He never mentioned anything about his probation? Furthermore, the idea of someone using their stand on unsuspecting innocents made him angry. It was too cruel, too evil for someone to do that.

"And before you ask, you should have realized that your assault accusation spread like wildfire in gossip circles at our highschool. I actually recognized you off the get go."

Akira's lips pursued into a frown.

"So why were you so friendly to me?"

"You know how I'm always hanging around those two delinquents at school? One with the hair and one with the scars? Well, they've got some unsavory rumors because of their appearances too." The young man put his hands together. "It's not fair for me to judge you when I don't know anything about you either. So why don't we get to know each other? For real this time."

Akira nodded his head.

"My name is Koichi Hirose. I'm eighteen years old and a third year at Morioh highschool. I have a girlfriend named Yukako. My stand is named Echoes, and I've fought in countless stand battles ever since I've got it." A white and green spectre emerged from Koichi. The emerald being floated alongside him, mimicking Koichi's pose.

"It's ability is to drastically increase the amount of gravity on an object as to freeze it in place. Two years ago, my friends and I hunted Yoshikage Kira down after he killed a close-friend of ours, and I personally caused his death when I used my stand ability." The image of a man getting his head crushed ran through the shorter man's mind. "I can never forget how his head twisted 180 degrees with a sickening crack after it was crushed by the back wheel of an ambulance."

Akira remained silent. How was he supposed to respond to that?

"And I don't regret it in the slightest. Not anymore. Not when he could have killed my friends and I."

Akira looked up and stared into Koichi's eyes. They were full of a bright fire. One that lit up their surroundings and seemed to indicate that Koichi would do anything to punish the wicked. For some reason, he felt inclined to tell Koichi the truth. He could trust him.

So he did. It was a new experience for Akira.

"My name is Akira Kurusu. Last year, I stopped a rape in progress only for nobody to believe my story and for me to be found guilty of assault. Soon after, I was put on probation in Tokyo, and I formed the notorious group known as the 'Phantom Thieves' in order to steal the hearts of criminals and force them to confess."

Although he had just admitted that he was part of a group that brought chaos to Japan, Koichi's expression didn't change as he extended his hand to shake Akira's.

**I am thou, thou art I…  
Thou hast turned a vow into a blood oath.**

**Thy bond shall become the wings of rebellion and break the yoke of thy heart.**

**Thou hast awakened to the ultimate secret of the MAGUS, granting thee infinite power…**

Akira understood him. The two smiled at one another.

If it meant protecting his friends and himself, he'd have to be willing to kill his enemies if they were out for blood. He'd have to. He'd have to be willing to share the burden with the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

It was never a choice for him to begin with, but he felt as though just talking about it helped.

Nearby, a playing card flew past them in the direction of Naples Prison.

"You know, I should actually introduce you to Josuke and Okuyasu when you come back to Morioh for your third year along with us. We should really hang out together."

Akira agreed and laughed jovially. Koichi's face sharpened in a serious fashion however.

"Quick warning though, please **don't** insult Josuke's haircut like you did on the plane."

Before he could ask why, the arrow in his right hand tugged in the direction of the Phantom Thieves furiously, releasing itself from Akira's grasp and flying towards Makoto.

Running over to the group to hopefully stop the arrow, Akira and Koichi were too late. The arrow stabbed into her side and passed through her abdomen. She fainted from the pain, and Akira thankfully caught her before she could hit the ground 

Akira's eyes widened in fear.

Before anyone could grab the arrow, it changed its direction midair somehow and pierced the kneecap of Ryuji's previously broken leg. The blond cried out in pain. None of them knew what was going on.

It's next target was Yusuke. The arrow tore itself through the palm of his right hand before attacking each member of the Phantom Thieves one-by-one.

This couldn't be the result of a stand. They had already defeated Black Sabbath, and they would have seen another stand if it was.

As it finished its onslaught after impaling Futaba's left arm, who promptly screamed in terror at the sight of her friends being attacked, it began rapidly rotting as the curse tendrils from _TDRC_ caught it midair. As his stand floated in the air, he took a quick inspection of it again.

It looked like Arsene, but it was...different. Its wings were made of metal and a black and yellow leather. Its red coat was a much more modern version of the ascot and suit of his persona, resembling a suit that he'd wear himself along with its grayish blue button-down and black tie. Its black pants ended in the sharp heels that resembled knives. The stand had a cigarette as well along with a crimson fedora. _TDRC_ felt more like a reimagining of Arsene more so than a design lift.

But why though?

He shook his head. What was he doing? His friends should come first. Not his stand. He was honestly frustrated with himself as he inspected the place where Makoto had been stabbed.

No wounds. That was odd. Akira placed his hand on top of where the arrow had stabbed him during his fight with _Black Sabbath_. Now that he thought about it, there was no bleeding then either. Just what was this arrow?

He looked over at Koichi, expecting an explanation. Koichi only shook his head and placed his fingers on his chin in thought.

"I can only speculate about this, but from what I've heard from Mister Jotaro, the arrow actively targets those with strong wills, strong desires, or just potential stand users in general in order to awaken their stand abilities. I think that's why Morioh became infested with so many stand users two years ago."

Philemon's words resurfaced to Akira's mind once more.

A "chosen one of a fate" huh? So Philemon had given them stand potential. 

Akira gritted his teeth. His resentment towards the masked being steadily increased as Akira realized the meaning behind his words to him.

At least this meant that his friends would be safe.

He sighed in relief as Makoto began to come to along with the rest of the team.

Her eyes fluttered open as she registered Akira holding her bridal style. She jumped up out of his arms as her face turned crimson.

Akira explained the situation. His friends were too exhausted to experiment with any of their new stands. It was clear that they just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep.

Akira did too, but he felt as though he still had some business to take care of. Waving goodbye to Koichi, they started their journey back to the hotel as Akira felt the phone in his right pocket vibrate.

GIORNO: I've got some bad news.

AKIRA: What's wrong?

GIORNO: Bucciarati told me that Polpo knows about you and your team.

Akira stopped immediately as the rest of his group entered their hotel, waiting for him to enter.  
His heartbeat slowed down. Not wanting to worry them, he resumed his trek to their suite as he looked down at his phone.

AKIRA: how? You don't think he's going to report me to the cops, do you?

GIORNO: No, I doubt it. Chances are he's going to try to use your abilities to steal hearts to his advantage. It wouldn't make sense for him to sic the cops on you--not when he can use you.

AKIRA: So you think he's going to do what YOU did and blackmail us?

He paused before he deleted the message. It was unfair of him to judge Giorno like that when many of the members of the Phantom Thieves had previously blackmailed him as well. It'd be hypocritical.

AKIRA: So basically expect him to use our abilities for Passione?

GIORNO: I'd expect as much.

_Fuck._ It was going to be a lot harder for them to steal the boss' heart if they were a known entity. How did they find out?

Putting his phone away, he moved to the bathroom to take a shower. They should meet up and talk about their stands to properly use them in battle. After cleaning himself off and putting on a pair of gray pajamas, Akira called a meeting in one of the suite rooms.

His hair still damp, he sat on the bed of his room as the others joined him.

He informed them of the situation with Polpo only for no one to really react. If anything, they seemed glad that Akira wouldn't have to face Passione alone. If they were going down into the dark underbelly of society, they might as well as do it together.

"From what I can tell, our stands seem to be similar to our original personas to a degree. Joker, what was your stand named again?" Morgana started.

Summoning it, Akira responded, "its name is 'They Don't Really Care About Us,' but I would call it TDRC for short. As you speculated it's like a modified version of Arsene, only that it's curse abilities come from the tip of its fingers as if it was emitting the curse. The curse tendrils themselves seem to decompose and destroy anything that comes in contact with it. It's as though it's a more thought out version of what Arsene's abilities would do in the real world."

He felt like a kid on Christmas day. It was true. He always felt some nerdy joy at analyzing the mythic origins of the personas of his friends. Of course, he never informed them about this. Either way, his interests in mythology only just seemed to make executing them for fusions harder for him.

He gestured at Makoto to go next.

"Well, outside of its name, I don't really know anything about its abilities. I figure that's because I haven't actually summoned it, but I know that it's a motorcycle this time again."

That'd make sense. If they couldn't tell what abilities their stands would have, they'd have to find out at a later date. Still, it's fun just talking about these kinds of things anyways, so Akira wasn't going to shut down the meeting any time soon. The only other time he felt like this was when he was talking to Ryuji and Ann about the types of people they liked in Hawaii. It was fun in an admittedly immature way.

"Well, what's its name?"

Makoto gulped as her face turned scarlet.

"W-well, it's name is… o-okay, just give me a sec--"

Akira interrupted.

"We promise not to laugh." He glared at his other friends as if to say that they'd face repercussions if they did.

Makoto sighed in relief. She placed her hand on her chest.

"'Wolfmother.'"

Huh? THAT'S what was so embarrassing?

"I don't get it." Ryuji broke the tension.

Haru's eyes lit up.

"Oh! I get it! You're not a big fan of rock and roll or metal are you? It goes completely against your image."

Makoto pouted as she leaned back in her chair.

Haru hit the nail on the head apparently.

Akira recalled the classical music from Makoto's alarm.

"The truth is that I actually _do_ enjoy foreign bands like that… it's just weird for a girl to enjoy that stuff, isn't it?" Makoto relented as she scratched her cheek in embarrassment.

She cared too much about what others thought of her.

"Not really. You like what you like. I don't think it's weird." Ryuji responded, scratching the side of his head.

"Yeah, what Ryuji said, I don't think it's very abnormal in the slightest for girls to like that stuff." Akira nodded his head.

"It's just that sis always claimed that people who liked that stuff were weird." 

"Mako-chan, if it's fair, that's complete nonsense," Haru continued, "in fact, back when my dad was… normal, he introduced me to the metal genre. It's not fair for Sae-san to judge others based on her own taste."

"Wait for real?!" Ryuji seemed pretty excited about Haru's statement.

That was unexpected. The former head of Okumura Foods had also an interest in metal--as did his daughter.

Honestly, he should have expected this from Haru's family. The girl did have a sadist streak when it came to shadows.

Ryuji looked like he was glad to have someone--better yet a cute girl--who shared his interest in metal. His eyes sparkled as he stared at Haru.

Ann didn't look very happy about it.

"And before we get off-topic, do you guys mind if I go next? I feel so pumped, bro! It's like when we first got our personas all over again!" Ryuji was practically bouncing in his seat in anticipation.

Akira gave him a thumbs-up in return.

"Alright! It's the same deal with Makoto. I don't really know the frickin ability, but I know the name: 'Rebel Yell,'" Ryuji looked at everyone expectedly only to receive no response.

"Ah what the hell? Do none of you guys have good taste?"

Being from Japan, they'd have to give some of the stand names a listen at some point. Their interaction with foreign bands--sans Makoto--seemed to be pretty limited. Ryuji scoffed and kicked at the floor lightly.

"You guys suck."

Ryuji made his disappointment clear.

"I don't comprehend your statement, Ryuji. Why are you looking at us so expectedly? Billy Idol is a pretty famous 80s musician, so, of course, we'd know about him. I can't particularly imagine why you thought the mention of him would prompt a response from us."

Everyone recoiled at Yusuke. He just kept on ranting.

"Sure, Billy Idol is a good musician, and his 80s style is nostalgic for our elders. I don't deny that."

"Wait wha--"

"Personally, I prefer bands like Hall and Oates or Depeche Mode from the 80s."

"Yusuke, if you don't mind us interrupting, but why do you know so much about--"

"Although it is particular. My stand isn't named after anything I listen to very often. It takes its name from Ronnie James Dio's song, 'Rainbow in the Dark,' from his Holy Diver album, but I personally prefer his work in Deep Purple or Rainbow. You'd think your stand would take its name from your interests, but it seems I have aspects of myself that I'm not yet aware of. How interesting. Madarame always had me listen to foreign progressive rock, but I always enjoyed cultivating my own taste by researching other types of foreign music. Speaking of--Makoto, since your taste seems limited in the music department despite your interests, I could recommend you some other foreign bands if you allow me to. Well--"

"INARI BE QUIET." Futaba yelled out in frustration, stomping her feet wildly. That seemed to work as Yusuke's eyes widened in shock, as if he had been offended.

"How rude! Why--"

"MOVING on, my stand's name is 'Miku.' Next." Futaba seemed to completely shut Yusuke down as she pointed over at Haru, determined to change subjects before Yusuke began his rant.

It would figure Futaba's stand would be named after some anime thing. The gremlin.

"Oh! Well, I'm actually a bit disappointed that my stand isn't named after any of the harder metal bands I listen to, but it's name is 'November Rain.' Mona-chan, you don't listen to music very often, do you? I can't help but be curious about it." 

Morgana's chest swelled up with pride as he walked across the hotel table.

"Well," Morgana laughed, "my stand's name is 'Got to Be Real,' and I have no clue what it's from. However, if it's anything like Zorro and reflects who I am, then I'm sure that the song is fantastic. Much better than that oaf's taste over there."

Ryuji jumped up and glared at the cat. Surprisingly, he didn't insult or threaten Morgana like usual. Akira was slightly proud. Ryuji really was growing up. He sighed and sat back down, still mad at Morgana.

Morgana moved himself towards Ann, as if to receive affirmation.

"Mona, you should be nicer to Ryuji." Ann scolded the feline. That was new.

Morgana looked down in shame. Getting insulted by the girl he was not-so-subtly crushing on definitely hurt his pride.

"I guess I'm the last one? Its name is 'CAKE.' Which reminds me, Haru, do you want to order room service for dinner tonight?" Ann looked very hungry.

As they ordered their food, Akira couldn't help but enjoy the situation. It was always fun to meet up together like this as friends.

After receiving their food and hanging out for a little while longer, everyone started to head to bed. 

Akira--now alone--pondered about what was in store for him tomorrow.

Akira wondered. What was Giorno's stand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's that. I wanted to recapture the essence of the Phantom Thieves just shooting the shit as well as have them discuss stands. I hope it worked well.
> 
> Have a nice day!
> 
> EDIT: I reread the chapter and realized a place where my word choices were redundant.
> 
> EDIT 2: I updated this chapter to better get across what I wanted from Akira's arc here. It seemed sort of melodramatic, so I wanted to ground it a bit more. Akira might be acting really OOC for some people here, but I do genuinely believe that this is in line with what we've seen. He's overly stoic (though that's the case with many other Persona protags) in reality, but he's also overly smug in the Metaverse. He's just trying to act like Dante or a cool guy twenty-four seven, and likely has some trust issues given he never opens up to anyone about himself. A lot of fanfiction makes him out to be a generally nice yet smug or an extremely melodramatic 'damaged' person, but I feel that's inaccurate.


	3. Polpo Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Giorno meet with Polpo to receive their sentences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! I'm having a lot of fun with this, so I hope you guys enjoy it!

\--01 / 04-- Daytime

Having slept in until 11 A.M. and still not completely used to the time difference between Italy and Japan, Akira braced himself for whatever may happen as he entered Naples Prison along with Giorno and the lighter. Outside, his friends shot him reassuring looks, but, in truth, he wasn't just worried for his own safety. What was going to happen to the other Phantom Thieves? He placed his phone in the police bin. As per usual, Giorno Giovanna possessed an unreadable expression on his face. The Italian was good at staying calm under pressure--Akira would give him that--but it was infuriating. Especially considering it was Giorno's fault for getting them into this situation in the first place.

The female guard from last time finished her pat down of Giorno and moved over to Akira. Having learned from when the team set him aside to inform him about his misfortune regarding the camera yesterday, Akira wasn't worried. He knew better than to wear a wired microphone and camera now.

Finishing up, she gave him the go-ahead to follow Giorno into Polpo's cell.

He entered into the dark-green hallway and stood beside Giorno. The lighter--still aflame--stood on the counter of the cell.

Where was Polpo? In the center of the room, a giant...pastry(?) stood above everything else. Akira hadn't seen any food product like it in his entire life. The thing was huge.

Before he could ask, the sound of Polpo's voice interrupted his trail of thought.

"Someone gifted me a special-order pizza."

_Chew._

A hole appeared in what now Akira recognized as a colossal pizza. From the hole, Polpo's lips revealed themselves.

_Chew._

Polpo tore through the top of the pizza.

What Akira (and Giorno) witnessed next would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Grabbing the two ends of the pizza from where he bit it, Polpo _slurped_ the whole thing down in seconds--like it was spaghetti. The massive Italian dish, which looked like it could feed several small families, disappeared into the void of Polpo's stomach like it was nothing. As if he was a professional athlete finishing up a set, Polpo stuck out both his arms in front of him as his face darkened seriously.

With a thunderous gulp, the pizza had vanished.

Polpo burped.

Both equally sickened and impressed, Akira took a step back to properly register what just happened.

"Sorry to keep you both waiting." Polpo leaned over to his right side in order to open the mini-fridge next to him, "Let's see, you were…"

Polpo pulled out several fruits from his snack compartment. The man was still hungry somehow.

"Giorno...Giorno, uh…" Polpo trailed off.

"Giorno Giovanna and Akira Kurusu, sir," finished Giorno as he patiently waited for Polpo.

"Ah, yes." Polpo began peeling a banana, "Sorry about that." Polpo bit into the yellow fruit.

Taking a break from his intense dieting session, Polpo looked back up at the duo.

"My head goes blank when I eat."

Akira winced as Polpo sank his teeth into an apple with a distinct crunch.

"Perhaps it's because all my blood goes to my stomach."

Giorno still didn't react. Akira waited in anticipation for Polpo to drop the bomb.

"This might sound sudden, but are either of you a religious person, Giorno and Akira?"

Akira paused to give it some thought. Following the events of the past 6 months, he really didn't know what he believed anymore. If you had asked him before the Metaverse, he would have said no, but after all the supernatural cognitive experiences he's had with Yaldabaoth and Philemon, he'd just be in denial if he said that he didn't believe in some sort of higher power outside of the human consciousness. Not a being that came as a result of human cognitions, but a bona-fide omnipotent ruler. Outside of that though, Akira didn't see himself as religious.

He brought his hand up to his chin.

Sure, he went to church occasionally, but he hadn't really taken the time to read scripture and properly digest the doctrines of Christianity. He meant to at some point in the future, yet he never made the actual time for it. Christianity in Japan is a minority religion, and it honestly seemed to be looked down upon by the faculty of Shujin. Many of his peers that were religious seemed to be of either Shinto or Buddist faith, and while he did not have any qualms about either of those beliefs, neither of them seemed to possess the same impact as Christianity on him. Sure, he met shadows that took on the forms of all religious figures, but he felt a special connection to the western religion because of his own persona: Arsene and Satanael. Both had their roots in the west.

"No, I wouldn't call myself religious. At least, not right now." Akira concluded. He waited for Giorno to answer.

The blonde spoke up as Polpo began pouring himself a glass of red wine.

"I'm also not sure… but I'm not very passionate about it." 

Polpo looked up at the ceiling wistfully as he brought the glass up to his mouth.

"That may be for the best. What I'm about to say may contradict God's teachings, but I'd like both of you to listen carefully."

Polpo readjusted his sitting position.

"Akira, yesterday when you were asked about what was the most important thing to consider when choosing who to join Passione, you said "trust," correct?"

Akira nodded hesitantly. Giorno's face darkened. To Akira, he seemed angry.

"If the most important thing in this world is trust, then the most despicable thing you can do is insult someone." 

Polpo sipped on his wine once more.

"Listen well… To insult or betray someone's trust not only hurts their reputation," Polpo moved his gaze onto both of the teenagers, "but puts them in a very sticky situation."

"We will not fight others or risk our lives over money, power, or having our seats taken at a theater or on the bus."

Polpo looked forward ahead of himself.

"Fighting is truly foolish. Only idiots bother with it." Polpo threw his arm up in the air to demonstrate his displeasure.

"But…"

Polpo pointed at Akira.

"I _will_ risk my life over being insulted."

Akira felt a chill down his spine.

"I believe that God forgives even murder."

Giorno's expression remained steadfast.

"Don't forget that."

Polpo coughed into his elbow before menacingly staring at Akira.

"Now, Akira Kurusu, why didn't you tell me about your position as the leader of the Phantom Thieves? I would like to believe that you didn't mean to insult me by not disclosing this information to me, but I cannot say for sure unless you prove yourself to me."

Akira's blood went cold. Polpo leaned forward towards him. He had to think fast.

"I didn't mean to insult you, sir, but I didn't want to potentially endanger my friends by telling you."

Polpo leaned back and laughed.

"Akira, if I wanted to hurt your friends I would have already done so."

He paused. Giorno's face grew darker as he went over to the metal green door that separated them and the gangster. 

Akira didn't know what Giorno was doing, but he seemed to be using Polpo's focus on Akira to do something discreetly.

"No, I have something much more agreeable in mind for you and you friends."

Polpo flipped something over onto the counter of the jail cell before his expression noticeably brightened.

"Congratulations! I will allow all seven of you to enter the organization!"

Wait "all seven?!" Then Polpo really did want to hire the rest of the Phantom Thieves as part of Passione.

Dammit, Akira didn't like this.

Wait. Why only seven? They had eight people in total including Giorno.

_He must have not realized that Morgana was a Phantom Thief too._

That meant they still had a secret weapon.

Giorno brought whatever Polpo flicked onto the counter to Akira.

In total, there were seven golden badges. One for Giorno and six for the human Phantom Thieves.

"You both still did bring me the lighter still lit, as I trusted the two of you would." He pointed at Giorno. "You pass."

"Those are our Passione organization's badges." Akira looked down at the six golden buttons he held. "It proves that you passed my exam."

"Giorno, you'll be working under Bucciarati for a while."

He turned to Akira.

"Akira, you and your friends will be shadowing underneath Bucciarati's team for a little while, but you will have considerably more autonomy than Giorno here as long as you follow the orders of your capo."

Polpo drank some of his wine.

"And remember, Akira, don't insult me again."

A smile adorned Polpo's face as Giorno began exiting the cell. Akira followed closely behind.

"How about it? Why don't we celebrate your…" The sound of Polpo's voice grew more distant as the two of them exited the cell.

As they left the prison, Akira breathed out a sigh of relief. That could have gone much worse.

Although now all the Phantom Thieves minus Morgana have to obey Polpo, Akira was glad that they weren't under too much trouble. Thankfully, Polpo considered them to be a valuable resource.

They exited the prison to find the Phantom Thieves and Bucciarati waiting for them.

Akira quickly got to work and began passing out the badges to his team as he explained the conditions Polpo had given him.

Bucciarati stood there impassively as he waited for Giorno to arrive.

Ryuji whispered into Akira's ear.

"Dude, we put this guy's name in the nav and there were no hits. How are we supposed to gather info on the boss like this?"

"You know I can still hear you, right?"

Ryuji jumped back in shock.

"I already know that you are the Phantom Thieves. You need not worry about me though. We have similar goals after all." Bucciarati placed his right hand over his heart.

"I know that unwillingly joining a crime syndicate can be scary, but I can promise you that I won't harm any of you as we target him."

So Giorno had already convinced Bruno as well. That'd eliminate some obstacles.

As Giorno caught up with him, he flashed his badge to Bruno.

Bucciarati turned his back on them.

"Come with me." Bruno gestured to the whole group.

As they followed him, Bruno explained that for the next week or so, he'd personally be giving orders to their group. Afterwards, they'll most likely be receiving hit jobs from Polpo or someone else further up the totem pole. 

"You mean assassinations?" Makoto asked.

Bruno just nodded his head as the group looked at each other worriedly. They'll have to tackle that at a later date.

Bruno brought them to an Italian restaurant nearby before stopping.

"Meet me here tomorrow at around 8 A.M."

The gangster left the group dumbstruck.

\--01 / 04-- Evening 

Having arrived back at the hotel, the group let out a collective yawn of exhaustion. What did Bruno have in store for them tomorrow? 

They would just have to wait and see.

Now that he thought about it, this vacation was turning out to be a waste. They hadn't once explored any part of Italy yet. No, instead they were too busy dealing with the intricacies that came with joining a foreign mafia.

This wasn't very relaxing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter in comparison to the prior two. I figured I should go ahead and get this interaction out of the way, so I can begin properly implementing what I've got planned for the Phantom Thieves. I compromised on posting a smaller chapter before having to tackle balancing the character interactions between the rest of Passione and the Phantom Thieves. Expect the next one to be longer.
> 
> Sit tight! Thank you so much for reading my nonsense!


	4. Piss Jokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm really exicted to actually start with the stand fights for the Phantom Thieves, but I figured this chapter was necessary first.

\--01 / 05-- Early Morning

He awoke to the feeling of the rising sunlight pouring from his window on his face. Blinking several times, he brought his fists to his face to rub off the morning crust from his eyes. Yawning, he reached for his glasses at the side of his bed out of habit before realizing their absence. _That was right._ They were still in Italy. In truth, he didn't need the glasses to begin with. He had perfect vision.

After constantly wearing them for the past six months, it felt strange not to.

He threw off his covers. His watch read 5:45 A.M., and he figured that he might as well as get dressed and head into the living room.

Nobody else was up yet it seemed. That was probably for the best. They had a long day ahead of them.

He walked over to the coffee machine and put in a k-cup. He pressed the brew button and patiently waited as the coffee began dripping into his mug. Normally, either Sojiro or himself would chew people out for drinking the instant coffee in favor of the handcrafted blends at Leblanc, but his pride as a barista took a backseat to everything that's happened in the past three days. He sat down in a wooden chair positioned towards a glass window as he sipped on the coffee.

He immediately recoiled. The instant-coffee had left a bad impression in his mouth. Nonetheless, he relented and slowly drank the unsavory drink as he took in the view of Naples.

The sky was painted a lovely pink-orange as the sun arose, revealing the landscape of the southern Italian city. It was beautiful. The way the navy waters reflected the sun-kissed rays of light. The way the sun seemingly brought the city to life. The way the buildings of the coast seemed to make a hill. The way that the land curved around the harbor. No wonder Yusuke wanted to come here.

He took another brief sip of the hot liquid. Back home, he'd use his free time in the morning to do pull-ups with the overhanging wooden beams of the café or go on a jog around Yongen-Jaya. Afterwards, he'd relax as he would drink boss' famous coffee and would then wash himself off at the nearby bathhouse. Next, he'd spend his time preparing for Shujin. 

This was the first time during their trip that he actually felt like he was on a vacation.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but the sublimity of this moment was soon interrupted when he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder.

He turned his head to the side.

Ryuji looked like he had just gotten up. His bed head was worse than usual, and he was soaked with sweat.

Akira figured that Ryuji must have developed a habit of going on early morning runs for track. Of course he'd want to use the opportunity to see some of the key locations of Naples as well.

"How long was your run?"

It took Ryuji a second for him to catch his breath. 

"About 12 miles, man. I woke up really early this morning and couldn't fall back asleep."

He must have been nervous too.

Ryuji took his hand off of Akira's shoulder and started making his way over to the shower, leaving Akira alone in the living room.

As he thought about his friends, the topic of a certain brunette took ahold of his mind.

Just what was his relationship with Makoto? Sure, he had kissed her, but he had only done so out of a dumb competition with her to make her blush.

He knew he liked her, and he also knew that she had some feelings for him to an extent. However, the idea of talking to her about his feelings made Akira feel uncomfortable. He had an image of himself as the perfect suave gentleman in his head. Someone who caught the hearts of hundreds of girls through his etiquette. 

He certainly had built up that image of himself in his own head. He did happen to be a bit of a flirt. Flirting with Makoto was always much more intense though. He felt it in his gut. With Ann or Haru, he knew they were just teasing each other. Hell, he was pretty sure Ann and her had feelings for another person in their group, but with Makoto, he always got this warm feeling in his gut about her. The way she analyzed situations. The way she diligently studied. The way she got flustered over the slightest sexual provocation. It all enamored him. He knew as much.

He just did not know how to make that step from flirting to confessing. He had no experience with it.

He downed the last of his coffee before pulling out his watch.

7 A.M. 

He should really go ahead and start waking up the others.

\--01 / 05-- Early Morning

One hour later, the Phantom Thieves and Giorno stood outside the restaurant Bruno had brought them to yesterday. Not fully awake, Futaba let out a yawn as she stretched upwards to the sky.

From inside the restaurant, Akira could hear a group dispute going on as Bruno gestured them indoors.

"That's not the point here! There are four slices of cake!"

Akira looked around at his team as they paused at the sound of distant yelling. He raised an eyebrow.

"Do they want me to die?!"

What sort of reasoning was that? And why were they speaking Japanese?

"Again with this Mista?" Another voice asked.

As the group stood there, Bucciarati brought his palm to his face in disappointment.

"You moron!"

The group visibly winced at the volume.

"It's bad luck to choose one from four! Choosing from five is fine. Choosing from three is fine. But when you choose from four, something bad will happen!"

Bucciarati looked like he wanted for the rest of the group to head back inside but didn't say anything.

"When I was a kid, another kid adopted a kitten from a litter of four that was born in our neighborhood," Morgana's head perked up, "and then the cat scratched his eye right out of his head!" 

Morgana's ears went down.

"Of course, he beat the cat to death later."

Morgana's ears went further down as he worriedly glanced at his friends. Just what was going on in his head?

"That's just an old wives' tale." The much more reasonable voice cut in.

"If you think about it rationally, when people eat a cake one slice at a time, someone's going to have to take one of the last four slices."

Ryuji started counting on his hands as if to instinctively check, much to the laughter of Morgana and Futaba. Makoto just looked at him curiously. 

"That's the thing, though!" 

The volume had returned.

"This is when the restaurant should be more considerate and just bring us three slices! Talk about shitty service!"

Once again, Akira reiterated in his mind, what sort of reasoning was that?

"Jeez… Don't eat it, then." 

"But I want some strawberry cake!"

The louder voice just got louder.

"I did it!" Another more excited voice interrupted the two.

"I did it, Fugo! How's it look?"

"You're finished? Let's have a look." The calm voice responded.

A slight pause.

"What is this?"

The excited voice laughed before replying.

"Am I right?"

The crunching sound of metal against flesh rang out throughout the restaurant, followed by a scream and the smashing of a head against a table. Their eyes widened. What kind of people were they dealing with?

Giorno remained impassive as if he dealt with shit like this daily.

"You stupid delinquent! Are you messing with me?! How many times do I have to teach you this before you learn?!" 

This time a much more violent slam against the table reverberated in the restaurant. 

"You shit-for-brains!"

"You just said six times five was thirty, so why the hell is your answer even less?!"

To be fair, Akira has felt similarly when studying with Ryuji.

Once the previously calm voice exploded, Bucciarati recollected his thoughts and started walking over to the commotion along with Giorno and the Phantom Thieves. 

Once they had gotten there, they saw a black-haired young man, who for some reason had a fork stabbed into his cheek, holding a knife to the throat of a green-suited blonde.

Holy shit.

"What?"

The knife came closer.

"Did you just call me shit-for-brains?"

What kind of person exploded like that?

"It's not good to look down on others." The blonde started visibly sweating. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you, Fugo."

Fugo looked down on the boy.

"You bastard…"

"What the hell are you guys doing?!" Bucciarati reeled them back into reality.

"I could hear you all the way from the entrance! You're bothering the other customers and the recruits!"

Bruno gestured to the group of teenagers. Akira's eyes met with the glare of a tall man with light-purple hair. 

"This is the new member I told you about yesterday, and these are the group of people who will be shadowing under us for today."

"Let me properly introduce you. This is Giorno Giovanna and the Phantom Thieves." Bruno's voice trailed off into a whisper as if to conceal that fact.

Giorno walked forward.

"I'm Giorno Giovanna." He bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The four gangsters just ignored them as they went about their business.

"Hey!" Bruno called them to attention in anger.

"I'm the one who brought them here, so be respectful!"

The tall one just kept glaring at Akira and Giorno.

"Mr. Bucciarati." The polite voice of a waiter cut him off.

"What is it?"

"There's a phone call for you."

Bucciarati calmed down.

"All right, thanks." He began to depart before pointing at his subordinates.

"Make sure you guys properly greet them! Got it?"

The tall one broke his glare before taking the tea pot and turning around.

"I'll be right back. Take some time to get to know these guys, especially you Giorno."

And with that, Bruno had left eight teenagers and their cat with a small group of criminals.

Akira would reckon that was slightly irresponsible of him.

"New recruits, huh? Why don't you guys go ahead and pull up some seats?" The tallest one asked. Well, it wasn't really asking, but whatever.

Makoto had this look of anticipation and excitement on her face as she brought a chair over along with the rest of the team.

"Let's have some tea and chat. You guys said you were those Japanese criminals, right? How about telling us about that?"

He began pouring the tea pot into several different cups. Three in total.

Yusuke gestured to the waiter for more, and he took a cup. Akira and Giorno did as well. 

"Well, drink up."

The three other gangsters looked at each other in shock over something. Akira couldn't tell what until he brought the cup to his face along with Giorno and Yusuke. 

"How old are you?"

"We're about sixteen for the most part." Akira spoke up.

"Sixteen? Ha, you're a year younger than me." The blackhaired teen said, blood still spilling from his fork wound. Akira didn't think the guy noticed it.

"Thank you for the tea." 

Akira and Giorno paused when they realized what was wrong.

Yusuke, being the social butterfly he was, didn't even notice what was wrong, but he did set the "tea" down after sipping on it with a sour look on his face.

A satisfied smirk adorned all four gangsters. Mista stood up and patted Yusuke on the back looking as though he was simultaneously proud and about to break out laughing.

"Well this one here has some balls. Heh." 

He broke out in pure laughter after Yusuke sipped on the "tea" again, still not recognizing the small fact that it wasn't tea. Yusuke looked like he was deep in thought over something. The others just looked over at them curiously.

The tall one gestured over to Akira and Giorno.

"What's wrong? You both just thanked me for the tea that I so generously poured for you. Since you already thanked me for it, you'll just have to drink it." The man pointed at their cups. "Or do you not want to drink it because it's not very hot?"

The brunette of the group held a hand over his mouth as if to stop him from laughing.

"Maybe they don't want to drink it because he doesn't want to be one of us." 

"What the hell are you guys doing?!" Bruno returned, much to the relief of Akira.

Giorno looked up at the man before opening his mouth. Yusuke had finished his cup with a weird expression on his face. Akira figured that--of course--Yusuke would find some backwards way to make this about pursuing art in the back of his mind.

"It's nothing. He went through the trouble of pouring this tea for us."

To Akira's disbelief, Giorno then leaned back and drank the "tea" in a single move.

Akira could only look at his cup and come up with a solution of his own.

He made a similar gesture as Giorno and summoned TDRC's ability to destroy things via curse tendrils. It would have worked if it didn't destroy the teacup too.

Thankfully, the gang never noticed as they were too pumped over Giorno doing it..

"No freakin' way!"

"What did you guys do?"

"I don't get it why are you making such commotion over just strangely flavored tea--"

_Clink_

Giorno had set his cup down. The absolute madman. The other thieves and Yusuke still seemed confused. 

"Gross! All three of them actually drank the piss!"

Ryuji's eyes widened before he broke out laughing. The others just recoiled in disgust. Yusuke still seemed nonplussed.

"D-dude, you guys are a riot! Did you seriously actually drink it?"

Mista pointed at Giorno.

"No, there's no way they could have!" Fugo yelled.

"Hey, how'd you do it? Where did you hide it?"

"Hey, come on. Just tell me, okay?"

These gangsters were acting more like elementary students than hardened criminals.

Akira was sweating, hoping they wouldn't notice the fact that his teacup disappeared.

Giorno tilted his head slightly.

"Who knows? You're all keeping your abilities a secret too, aren't you?"

Everyone recoiled in shock.

So all thirteen people in this room were stand users?

This was troublesome. As the four grilled them on what they did with the piss, Akira did his best to remain as impassive as Giorno.

Bruno stepped in.

"Quit screwing around. We're going out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should be slightly upset with myself, but this scene is absolutely necessary in any part 5 adaptation lol.


	5. Emerging Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji has his first stand battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had initally intended on having the Phantom Thieves just follow Bucciarati when I started this fic, but I decided against it after chapter 2. After all, what's the point of giving someone a stand just to repeat stand battles that were designed without them?

Taking the Phantom Thieves aside from the rest of the group, Bruno informed them of the situation.

Polpo was dead, and now, Bruno's gang was going to go after some treasure belonging to the former capo.

Despite the protesting, Bruno was dead set on not letting the Phantom Thieves join them when they could be gathering info on the boss using the Metaverse instead. He didn't want to endanger the lives of civilians dammit. 

"It's too dangerous for you to come along with us. In the meantime, I want you to look into something for me."

Bruno handed over a scrap of paper to Akira.

"Look for a man named Pericolo. Try to extract some information from him if you would."

Akira looked at him seriously. His brow furrowed.

"Is he a stand user?"

Bucciarati told him to read the information he had provided them on the piece of paper. It was too dangerous to discuss this with them any more.

The Phantom Thieves departed from Bucciarati's gang as they headed back to the hotel, ready to research their new target and not noticing the man tailing behind them.

As they entered the main living room, Ryuji noticed something off. For some reason, a package had come in the mail for them and was now placed on the center of the suite.

Why wasn't anyone else mentioning it? Normally, Makoto or someone else would have brought it to someone's attention, but everyone was treating it like it was an everyday occurrence.

As his friends gathered around to discuss their next course of actions. He didn't make any notes about it. 

The group circled around Akira.

As Akira opened his mouth, he was interrupted by a sudden blast of light.

_BOOM_

The thing exploded.

Alongside Akira, he was rocketed to the opposite side of the room by the force of the explosion. His other friends were thrown in various different directions. The air smelt of smoke. Ryuji looked around at his surroundings. He rubbed his eyes.

What just happened? Were they under attack by the enemy? This was bullshit. First all this stuff about stands happened, and now his best friends could all die.

His face stung. His ears were ringing.

Opening his eyes, he saw a figure standing near the door to the suite. The man wore a white suit with feather designs on the shoulder portions of it. Underneath it, he wore an orange button-down with the words "Rocket Man" adorning it in white letters. He had short cut blond hair and orange sunglasses. Their assailant had been waiting for them to return.

"You really should have been more careful about maintaining your privacy here."

Ryuji got up from the ground as he launched himself at the man.

Electricity contracting his muscles beyond their normal limit, Ryuji's right hook slammed into the side of the man's head. Without realizing, he had activated his stand's ability.

Rebel Yell allowed him to send electricity through his body to strengthen him by forcibly contracting his muscles.

 _Crack_.

His sunglasses knocked off, the man's head hung the side of his broken neck at a disturbing angle. Ryuji could still feel the vibration of his fist against the skull of the gangster. He shook his hand off. 

He had killed someone.

He shook his head. He couldn't think about that right now. Not when his friends were hurt.

Ryuji turned his back on the presumed corpse, walking over to the source of the original explosion that incapacitated his friends. He should have mentioned something to them about the package looking off, dammit. This was all his fault.

Ryuji panicked. He hoped to whatever god out there that his friends were still alive. He didn't know what he would do without them.

Outside of a few knocked heads and probably a few concussions, none of them seemed to be fatally injured thankfully.

Ryuji exhaled in relief. He placed his hand on Akira's wrist to check his pulse, and he was about to examine his eyes to be sure the pupils reacted to light before he felt something wrap around his legs.

Instinctively, he summoned Rebel Yell and turned around.

The man, still standing with his broken neck, grabbed his head and corrected it. With a snapping sound, his head had been reattached to his neck like it was nothing. 

"Well that was rude."

The man smirked at Ryuji as if he had expected him to attack.

"I was about to politely explain myself along with my stand ability for you too."

He leaned over to pick his orange sunglasses off the ground.

"How the hell are you alive?!"

Ryuji looked down.

His feet were firmly planted into the ground by white plant roots. The roots were adorned in numerical symbols. Was this a stand?

Ryuji gulped.

Leaning his head back as if to stretch, the man opened his mouth once more.

"My name is Ribollita, a member of the human-trafficking branch of Passione. My stand, _Still Standing_ , has the ability to prevent me from dying as long as I am planted into the ground. Furthermore, unfortunately for you, it also has the ability to restrain my enemies. It's not very useful for my business, honestly."

He bowed.

"I would say it's nice to meet you, but you and I both know that's a lie, young man."

"Oh well good for you, you human-trafficking piece of shit!" Ryuji leaned forward to taunt the man before he felt the pain in his feet sharpen.

The same plant roots were wrapped into the flesh of Ryuji's feet.

The man laughed lightly.

"Are you stupid or something? I explained myself to be polite, but I only did so when you couldn't do anything about it."

Ryuji thought fast. This was a real fight. Not like the ones they had in the Metaverse. He could _feel_ how Ribollita's neck snapped. So it didn't make any sense to him. Just what were the limits on these stands?

_What was the limit on his stand?_

Ribollita pushed his hair back.

"I will admit, I'm not very pleased to have to kill kids, but boss' orders are absolute."

\--???/???-- ???

Ribollita ate the stale bread that the headmistress gave him. It was a rare thing for her to do. 

Typically, she would just beat him.

"Good job today." She patted his head with a smile on her face, but Ribollita knew that there was nothing behind it.

Scuotilo was an orphanage that acted as a front for a human trafficking gang operation. So what would happen to the children who were genuinely placed there by the government?

The young girls would been groomed into prostitution. That much was obvious.

However, the males would often be beaten by the headmistress if they refused to take part in the gang operations. If they kept refusing her orders, they would just eventually disappear at the age 16. 

Ribollita could only imagine that they would be used for organ trade.

Ribollita was born poor. He endured this for sixteen years before the operation was shut down and the headmistress was killed as a result of a territory war with Passione by the leader of the human trafficking team. 

Eternally grateful, Ribollita swore his life to the leader, and he viewed the whole experience as a means to better himself, causing him to join Passione. 

\--01 / 05-- Daytime 

So the boss had finally been informed? Shit. Of course, this was inevitable. The whole bullshit about "joining Passione" could only go so far. It was a set up. Damn that Bucciarati! He should have known that Polpo would have told someone!

The roots dug deeper into Ryuji's flesh. He screamed out in pain.

"You know, it just makes things harder if you struggle."

Ribollita pulled out a knife from his pocket as he undid the roots on his own feet. He walked over to Ryuji before he stabbed the boy's gut.

It hurt. Ryuji screamed. Blood spurted out from his stomach. Though Ryuji could contract his abdominal muscles to prevent severe bleeding, it didn't stop the blood fully.

"After I'm done dealing with you, I'll move on to your friend there." Ribollita pointed at Akira. "Don't worry about it. Life just sucks sometimes, you know?"

The man punched Ryuji in the face, sending him backwards before Still Standing grew deeper into Ryuji's feet.

"It's unfortunate that the notorious Phantom Thieves had to be put down. I actually found your escapades in Japan to be quite entertaining while I was researching you."

Ryuji's eyes closed as breath escaped his lungs. One of his ribs had punctured his lungs.

"Honestly, you're lucky that I got to you first."

Another punch. His cheek felt sore. Sure, it wasn't anything like Kamoshida's punch, but it was a close second. He needed to think of something.

 _Kamoshida._ Just thinking about the guy pissed Ryuji off. The piece of shit gym teacher. If he could deal with a scumbag like Kamoshida for a year, he could definitely deal with this guy in front of him. 

He clenched his fist tighter as he endured Ribollita's onslaught of blows.

_This was nothing._

Ryuji looked up at Akira. Unbeknownst to Ribollita, Akira's eyes had opened. 

Joker's eyes met with Ryuji's and looked up as if to send a message to Ryuji.

As Ribollita continued to beat down on Ryuji, stabbing the boy's right side, Ryuji looked to where the barely-conscious Akira had gestured him to.

Above Ryuji, a ceiling fan hung on by a few wires.

Immediately understanding, Ryuji took action as he came up with a plan.

He channeled the electricity in his nerves to his legs. He would have to find the resolve to summon the electricity to catch Still Standing on fire. Though it caused intense third degree burns in and outside his legs, it had effectively gotten rid of the plant roots. 

Ribollita noticed immediately as Ryuji used his cloaked stand to catapult him upwards.

Tearing the fan from the ceiling and slamming it into the man in front of him, he prayed that it would be enough to destabilize Ribollita.

 _SMASH_. The sound of cracking wood and warping metal reverberated in Ryuji's eardrums.

It wasn't.

Every step hurt as Ryuji stood above Ribollita's body.

Ribollita's legs were still fine. However, the force of the ceiling fan had effectively snapped his back in half.

"I knew you would do something like that as soon as that other kid opened his eyes."

Ribollita fixed his spine almost immediately. The plant roots digging into his central nervous system to reattach themselves back together.

"Still, to think you'd risk destroying your legs permanently to defeat me. I'm impressed. You've taught me a valuable lesson."

For Ribollita, he'd have to be careful when dealing with fire or electricity with his stand from now on. He admitted that his ability made him reckless, and Ryuji had shown that to him.

Ribollita twisted his body to snap it fully back in place. Plant roots began to cover Akira's mouth to suffocate him. Ribollita walked forwards over to Ryuji's body, now prone on the ground.

"Unfortunately for you, I can't be killed."

Ryuji grinned.

_His plan worked._

Ryuji clenched his jaw tighter as he dealt with the burning pain in his legs. What scared him more is that he couldn't feel his feet anymore--let alone move them. 

However, as long as his nerves were still there, he could use them to burn Still Standing.

This guy needed to be taken down as fast as possible. 

"You just made a big mistake, asshole."

Ribollita raised an eyebrow.

"You just dropped your guard."

Launching his collapsed body off the ground using his arms, Ryuji sent his feet on top of Ribollita's. 

Again, he charged enough electricity through his legs to burn the roots once more. This time--however--Ryuji felt nothing as it reduced Ribollita's feet and stand to charcoal. 

For the first time, Ribollita screamed as he toppled over.

Before the gangster could regain his footing, Rebel Yell had grabbed his head like a basketball, levitating him off the ground.

"Ya know, my stand itself can't create electricity. _But it can increase and focus existing currents._ "

Ribollita's eyes widened before blood exploded from the orifices of his face. His body stiffened, arched, and rose as much as possible before it slumped in defeat this time. His flesh blacked and peeled as it lay defeated. His white suit now a burnt black.

Ryuji had killed their pursuer, but at what cost?

He couldn't move his legs anymore, and he felt himself fall into unconsciousness as Akira got up off the ground.

One fact remained.

The boss was now after their lives and would be sending more stand users after them.

If they were anything like Ribollita, the Phantom Thieves needed to relocate as quickly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to have the Phantom Thieves face a group of original minor stand-user antagonists. I really hope that they fit in well with the whole of Part 5, as I attempted to make them fit into the motifs of the stand users there. I've seen a lot of OC stand users both good and bad, and I really didn't want it to feel like it was forced. I ended up taking inspiration from a lot of music and Italian dishes.
> 
> Please tell me what you think in the comments!


	6. Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team reflects on Ryuji's condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback thus far! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The history of the mafia and criminal underground has been littered in human trafficking rings. Passione--for all its nobility and Italian heritage--was no different. Giorno and Bucciarati agreed: it was absolutely disgusting. The fact that the boss condoned it was just another reason for Giorno to take him down. 

However, human trafficking extends beyond the sex trafficking aspect of the business as well. Organ trafficking was deeply rooted in it as well. Often, gangs would exploit illegal immigrants who wanted a better life by fleeing their country by smuggling them into other countries at the behest of big businesses desiring cheap labor. Furthermore, this is also done with the intention of inducing gratitude in these people or to later blackmail them into joining the gang or into selling their bodies. 

To Giorno, the drug and human trafficking branches of Passione were some of the worst scum imaginable.

\--01 / 05-- Evening

Akira was pissed. How did he let something so obvious escape his suspicions. Sure, he saw the package, but he didn't think anything of it at the time.

Now, as a result of his own carelessness, his entire team could have died if it weren't for Ryuji.

Akira closed his eyes to recall the events of the past 24 hours.

It all happened so fast. Though he was fading in and out of consciousness at the time, he can't forget what parts of the battle he did see.

The fierce explosion. The man dressed in white. The white tendrils that dug through the ground.

The way his best friend's legs peeled and blackened to the crackle of electricity. The way the man's spine snapped after Ryuji slammed a ceiling fan on top of it. 

_The way Ryuji's stand stared into Ribollita's eyes before condemning him to a gruesome death sentence._

It was a horrific scene. Ryuji's skeletal stand--dressed in black and yellow pants and hooded cloak--brought Ribollita's face up to his in order to let the enemy stand user look into it's one crimson iris before electrocuting his brain. With the stand's bony fingers clutching his head, Ribollita's body convulsed terribly, the electricity boiling him alive as Rebel Yell increased and supercharged the existing flow of ions in his central nervous system. It was as if he had converted the man's nerves into high-voltage wires. Electric chairs typically passed an alternating current of roughly 2100 volts at 7 to 12 amps for 2 minutes throughout the human body in order to kill someone before the executioner sent two jolts into them. Akira learned that much from Lavenza when he wanted to itemize certain personas. 

This was clearly far more than that.

It was as though the Grim Reaper had been personally summoned to take away the souls of the damned. 

Akira rested his chin on his hands as he sat outside the private hospital room Haru had gotten for Ryuji and them. They needed to get on the move as fast as possible in order to investigate Pericolo and avoid more enemy stand users. 

But that was second to Ryuji's health. The battle had left the track-star's legs in a total state of disrepair. They needed to be there for his friend when he finally woke up in order to tell him the bad news. The nurse had informed Akira of the situation first before everyone else, and it broke his heart.

For the rest of his life, Ryuji will never be able to walk again.

He knew that this news was just going to destroy Ryuji. At least when Kamoshida broke his leg, there was still the bit of hope that, if he committed himself to physical therapy and building his leg strength back up to where it once was, Ryuji theoretically could reclaim his future. 

That didn't apply here. In order to defeat Ribollita, Ryuji had practically roasted the nerves in his legs. 

The rest of the team waited outside along with Akira as he told them. He dug his fingernails into his clenched fists until they drew blood. 

Having known Ryuji the longest out of their friend group, Ann was the first to react. Out of all of them, she knew how committed to running Ryuji was. Everyday, before and after school, she saw Ryuji sprinting ahead of the track team prior to Kamoshida. 

She knew how much running meant to him. For all of his lack of discipline towards schoolwork, Ryuji was both a great friend and a great track runner.

It wasn't fair to him, damn it. 

While the others all recoiled in shock, lowered their head in frustration at themselves, or even began crying in Haru's case at the information, Ann turned around and entered back into Ryuji's room. She quickly pulled a chair right next to his bed and held his hand tightly to her chest.

She wasn't going to sit back and cry when Ryuji would need her help. Just as with Shiho, she was going to be with him every step of the way.

Soon after, she felt Ryuji stir awake as the others walked into the room. The despair was still visible on their faces. Morgana was deadly silent.

Groggily, Ryuji opened his mouth before chuckling.

"What's got you guys looking so down for?"

He turned towards Ann.

Akira placed a hand on his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing alright actually. I guess that fight really took it out of me, huh?"

Ryuji's smile seemed forced to Ann.

"That's good. Do you need anything? Some more pain medication? Do you want some water?"

Ryuji shook his head at Akira's questions.

"Nah, I'm all good for now."

Ann tugged at Ryuji's hand.

"Actually, Ryuji, we need to tell you something that you're not going to like to hear."

Makoto gulped. Yusuke just stared down at the floor while Futaba stood beside him. Ryuji's face remained unchanged. The fake smile still adorned him.

"After your fight with Ribollita, the nurse broke us some bad news--"

Ryuji interrupted Ann.

"It's about my legs, isn't it?"

His face didn't change. It hurt to see him like this.

"Don't worry about it. I don't regret it. I'm actually glad I managed to save all of you."

Yusuke spoke up.

"But Ryuji--"

"I said don't fucking worry about it!" Ryuji exploded. The smile disappeared from his face as he opened his eyes.

They were watering.

He whispered. "Just get started on researching the Pericolo guy and go." 

Akira relented, figuring that Ryuji just needed some time alone. He didn't want to upset his best friend anymore. Ryuji was probably suffering as it is. 

He gestured to the rest of the group to follow him out.

Hesitant to leave Ryuji, Ann got up from her chair as she decided what to do next before Ryuji grabbed her wrist gently.

"...please don't go."

It was faint and directed at Ann specifically. It was just the two of them.

Ryuji hated feeling like this. It wasn't like with Kamoshida, who he could direct all his suffering towards in the form of anger.

No, Ryuji did this to himself. 

He didn't lie when he said that he didn't regret doing it to save his friends. However, that didn't soften the blow of losing his ability to walk.

Ann helped him get up from the hospital bed into the wheelchair next to him.

He didn't know why he did it, but he hugged Ann tightly and began to softly cry.

\--01 / 05-- Nighttime

Relocated to the suite of another hotel, the Phantom Thieves worked all night attempting to guess the keywords to Pericolo's palace.

According to the piece of paper Bucciarati had given him, Pericolo was a capo who worked as a janitor by day. He possessed no stand, meaning that they could actually infiltrate his palace properly.

He hunched over Futaba as she began to work on researching the guy.

_Nothing._

They couldn't find anything about him aside from the fact that he had a palace somewhere in Naples.

"Did Bucciarati give you any info that could lead to the location of his palace?" Makoto asked.

Akira unfolded the piece of paper again. There wasn't anything specific enough that could lead to it.

"No. There's nothing."

"Perhaps we should go on reconnaissance? I'd love to take the chance to explore the city a bit more." Yusuke proposed.

Akira raised an eyebrow at the idea.

"Yeah, that'd be a good idea if we weren't being hunted, Fox. Just look at Skull--" 

Before Morgana could finish, Makoto elbowed the cat for being so inconsiderate.

Akira looked back at Ryuji.

He sat in his wheelchair sleeping. 

This was frustrating. They needed to get Pericolo's keywords as soon as possible. At least that way, Passione's stand users couldn't attack them if they were in the Metaverse.

Mementos was gone, so they couldn't rely on escaping there either.

This had been so much simpler with Polpo. His keywords were absurdly obvious. They didn't know a single thing about this other guy though.

"Does anyone else have any ideas?" 

Haru raised her hand.

"Maybe we could send Mona-chan out to investigate?" 

It was a good idea on paper. Passione probably didn't know that Mona was a Phantom Thief, but after what just happened with Ryuji, he felt uncomfortable sending someone to investigate alone. Stand battles were much more intense than their Metaverse counterparts. Even if they didn't know about Morgana, it wasn't certain. 

The worst part was that they didn't even know anything about the enemy stand users aside from what Ribollita told Ryuji. They supposedly held reign over all the prostitution rings in Naples, meaning they probably have eyes and ears everywhere if they used their victims for information gathering. The Phantom Thieves would be making a gamble just by showing themselves in public.

"I would, but I don't really feel comfortable sending someone on their own to investigate, cat or not. Who's to say that they don't already know that he's one of us? Ribollita targeted him as well in that explosion." Akira justified.

Makoto agreed.

"If we're going to investigate the entirety of Naples, we should do it in groups of two or three. That way we won't draw suspicion as a group or face a stand user alone again," she continued, "but we don't have to do that anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

She held out her phone in front of their eyes. 

"Because we've got a safer way of locating his palace without risking any one of us getting hurt."

"But wouldn't that take a lot more time?" Ann reasoned.

"I agree with Makoto. If it means avoiding a fight, I'd rather take the time to use our GPS to find it." Akira nodded his head.

Makoto pulled up her GPS and began listing the names of locations, buildings, and parks to the Nav.

It was their only safe option as ineffective as it was.

By the time they stumbled upon the location of his palace, night had already turned to day. 

How long were they just guessing random locations?

Either way, they'd have to inspect the place later today to possibly find out what his distort was.

 _Castel dell'Ovo_.

It looked like they'd finally be able to visit some tourist attractions on this trip to some degree. At least, Haru and Yusuke would be able to.

\--???/???-- ???

He hadn't heard back from Ribollita since before he left to deal with those Phantom Thieves brats.

Fuck. 

He got up from his seat as he left to go cancel his "date" with one of their prospective workers. He was used to it by now. Earn the trust of the girl. Go on a few friendly dates. And finally take advantage of her feelings for him to make her fall deep into debt, eventually causing her to work for them. All earnings go to the capo for redistribution, obviously.

Either way, Ribollita--despite all of his diligent work--had been iced by those children. This was personal now. He hadn't been close friends with the guy, but he made for good company. 

Oddly enough, he himself always abstained from the drugs and girls he brought in. It wasn't that he viewed himself above any of the other members, but he just never saw the value in them. He'd rather have a real relationship with a girl rather than the superficial ones he found himself falling into.

That was hypocritical of him, sure, but he didn't really care. 

He checked his phone. He had 5 hours of audio recordings to get through. He figured that the transmitter must be snuck on one of the kids by Ribollita.

It was a good thing that Ribollita's death wasn't in vain. The others guys might not care about it, but he sure did. He may be a piece of shit, but he was still going to avenge his coworker.

"Castel dell'Ovo."

Ever the opportunist, he got up and left for the historic landmark. He always liked to look at the bright-side of any situation. Thanks to Ribollita's sacrifice, he can follow out the boss' orders to eliminate the Phantom Thieves. His stand _Mr. Bluesky_ was perfect when it came to dominating the battlefield. Now, all he had to do was wait for them to arrive to trigger his ability.


	7. Sightseeing

\--01 / 06-- Sunrise

Yusuke checked the silver watch on his right wrist. 

5:30 A.M.

Akira had insisted on the two of them getting to Castel dell'Ovo as early as possible in hopes of not running into any enemies. The sun had not risen yet, but it did begin peeking over the horizon ahead of them, painting the sky and its reflection in the sea a beautiful pinkish-orange color. Had their lives not been at risk, Yusuke would have loved to capture the imagery of the stone fortress on a canvas. Hopefully, after all of this Passione nonsense, he could. 

Sensei--no-- _Madarame_ had never taken him out of Japan, let alone Tokyo before. 

He dismissed those thoughts. Castel dell'Ovo was truly magnificent, but he and Haru needed to decipher Pericolo's relationship to this place. They had already eliminated several keywords: fortress, church, arena, garden, battlefield, and nest. They would need to sneak into the location to find clues.

Thankfully, Haru brought one of Akira's lockpicks with her, and the tour guides for the ancient castle were nowhere to be seen. She deduced that it simply wouldn't open until later today. They'd need to finish before then.

As the two stepped inside, Haru gestured to Yusuke to talk to him.

"I know that Akira will be pretty angry at us for doing this, but wouldn't we be able to cover more ground if we split up?"

Yusuke agreed on the condition that if one of them were to be attacked, they would neglect stealth and call out to the other as loud as possible. Furthermore, they decided that they would meet up at around 7 a.m., giving each of them around an hour and a half to explore.

After Yusuke closed the castle gates behind them, Haru walked into the central courtyard, and the eccentric artist left to go downstairs into the basement of the landmark. She took one last look behind her.

Had she turned a corner at some point without noticing it? She could have sworn she hadn't, but when she looked back at where she entered the castle from, the brick wall lacked any doors to speak of. 

Was she simply too tired from staying up all night? 

Puzzled, she investigated the other arched courtyard entrances to the rest of the castle only to find them missing as well. On all four sides of her, she was trapped by the yellowish tan bricks. All exits and entrances to both other parts of the castle and the outside had disappeared.

She brought out her purple and tan stand _November Rain_ and prepared for a fight. Immediately, a pale blue butterfly materialized in front of her before vanishing just as quickly. Was it a hallucination? Before she could speculate on it anymore, her head began to hurt and information regarding her stand flooded her mind as though she was recalling a suppressed memory. 

She suddenly felt nauseous, her stomach churning as she stumbled to find balance. Her hand held her head as her headache intensified. Her breathing gradually became shorter and shorter, as though the air around her contained less oxygen by the second.

"Look above you."

An unknown voice called out to her, and she did as instructed.

The sky was an unnatural cobalt blue. The sun was nowhere in sight. There were no clouds to be seen.

It was as though someone had taken a cobalt blue sheet and flattened it across the world.

She looked around for the stand user to no avail.

"Haru Okumura. Age eighteen. Japanese heiress to the Okumura Foods company. Suspected for killing her own father as to call off an arranged marriage between her and a young man by the name of Rin Sugimura."

The voice continued.

"...and a member of the Phantom Thieves."

Haru lost her balance as she collapsed on the ground. Something held her up by her hair.

"Now tell me where your friends are."

In front of her, a fizzy-haired bearded man appeared from thin air. He wore a red, white, and blue checkered unbuttoned blazer accompanied by striped black pants. Looking closely, the blazer had several jewels emblazoned on it. A face mask accompanying a blue and white oxygen tank adorned his face. The mask itself read out "ELO."

He grabbed her hair tighter and brought her up off the ground. His face displayed a calm rage.

"Didn't I just fucking give you an order? Where are the other brats?" He kneed her in the stomach, knocking further knocking the wind out of her.

Haru coughed before she tried to open her mouth. She was too dizzy to talk, but she did know that she was in trouble.

"Ah yeah, that's right. You don't even know my name. My bad, my bad." The man laughed like he was trying to cover up his embarrassment.

"My name is Asternersi."

He scratched his head awkwardly. His eyes narrowed as he kept scratching his head more intensely.

"Now tell me where your fucking friends are!" He kicked her in the stomach.

In truth, Asternersi knew why she wasn't talking. She was under the effect of Mr. Bluesky. However, he wanted to make the bitch pay for what their group of brats did to Ribollita. He reduced his stand ability a little bit to allow her to gain some means to talk. 

Several years ago, he naturally awakened his stand for no discernible reason. Either way, he was recruited purely for its ability to remove oxygen in the air and reduce the air pressure. Typically, he'd use this ability on their prospects as to make them act drunk and make poor decisions as a result. 

Haru stood back up, now able to breathe better and regain her balance. 

Immediately, she used the opportunity to fire off her stand's mini guns, just as Asternesi disappeared again. 

"Whoa there! A bit quick to the trigger there!" His voice mocked.

Haru didn't care. If she couldn't see him, she'd have to just unleash the payload all over the room.

Spinning rapidly, the stand fired into the walls, hitting the invisible Asternesi in the process, who grunted in pain as a result.

Haru smirked before collapsing on the ground again. The ability returned, stronger than ever. 

"Bitch!" Asternesi reappeared and kicked Haru as she laid on the ground. 

"Look at what you've done to my face!"

His face and arms had several cuts from where the bullets had hit him.

She weakly attempted to summon her stand again to no success. The ordinarily sweet girl was on the defensive as she brought her hands in front of her to block Asternesi's fury.

Only for him to take several deep breaths. He took out a paper bag and began hyperventilating. Several minutes later, he threw the bag on the ground as his intimidating expression returned.

"Now, tell me again, where are your--"

The man stopped as he dug his fingers into the bullet holes in his arms. 

"What did you shoot me with?"

Haru didn't respond.

"Tell me you bitch!" He stomped on Haru's stomach, causing her to spit up blood.

She gritted her teeth.

"Oh right," the man's features softened, "the ability. My bad, my bad."

The man's features sharpened again as Haru could breathe properly once more.

"Now tell me before I have to meet with the guy you brought here!" 

He must have been referring to Yusuke.

"My stand has the ability to fire dissolving pills into your body. Gradually, they will slow down your heart until it stops moving."

Asternesi stopped and looked at her.

He kicked her in the stomach again, causing Haru's eyes to widen once more.

"You!" kick "Bitch!" kick "I!" kick "Don't!" kick "Take!" kick "Drugs!"

He paused. Haru surely had passed out by now. He kicked her in the jaw just to be sure.

His arm felt heavy. His eyelids felt sleepy. Suddenly, he felt really tired.

Haru's stand ability must have been activated, fuck. 

She said earlier that it would slow his heart to a stand-still, right? If so, he needed to do something quickly before he died.

His breath became shorter and shorter as his chest began to hurt.

He needed to get out of here and see his friends. Ribollita would know what to do. He always did! He studied so much after all!

He felt increasingly tired. He needed to get out.

He escaped Castel dell'Ovo as quickly as possible.

It wasn't enough. He wouldn't be able to meet Ribollita in time.

What would Ribollita do in this situation?

He came to a conclusion. 

He shattered a window next to him and grabbed a shard of glass.

He made a surgeon's cut at his stomach and hissed in pain. Next, he stuck his right hand inside his rib cage. If he couldn't make his heart beat faster on his own, he'd just have to physically do it. 

He grabbed the organ inside his chest and squeezed rhymically. His mind returned to him.

That's right. Ribollita was dead.

He still had a job to do.

Turning around to go back into the castle, he continued to force his heart to beat with his right hand. He could feel that his heart would slow down without it, as painful as it was.

If he were to complete his mission and stop November Rain's effect on him, he would need to finish killing the Okumura brat.

He walked back into the courtyard, only not to find her anywhere in sight.

He felt a hand place itself on his shoulder.

Looking back, he saw November Rain's miniguns pointed directly at his face.

The brat woke up again.

Haru was grateful. If she had blown through her payload earlier, she couldn't have won this fight. She was also glad that in her near drunken-state that she hadn't told him that her stand not only slowed down his heart, but it also induced severe confusion and memory problems in her target.

In truth, she was just lucky he deactivated his stand as he started suffering from November Rain's effects.

Something about the fear in Asternesi's eyes just made Haru excited.

Asternesi screamed as bullets entered and exited his head. His body twitching before he fell onto the ground.

Yusuke came running up the stairs quickly after he heard the gunfire go off.

They still had a job to do. This was certainly a set back, but they still needed to get the keywords. Their friends were going to be pissed when they got back.

Ryuji especially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fights is difficult. I might come back later to the last ones and work on them here. Please tell me in the comments if you think so. I hope the OC fit well into the story. I really experimented with the multiple third person perspective here.
> 
> Its a bit shorter than normal, so I apologize.
> 
> Thank you for reading thus far!


	8. A Lonely Old Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Thieves look for Pericolo's keywords.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having fun with this. Thank you for reading thus far!

\--01 / 06-- Early Morning

Akira held onto Makoto's waist as _Wolfmother_ rumbled its engine softly. According to Yusuke, Haru had been attacked by an enemy stand user and required medical attention. He decided that it would be best if Makoto used her stand to take the two of them to Castel dell'Ovo. Her stand, Wolfmother, took the form of an angular black motorcycle and was fuelled by the UV radiation emitted from the sun. It was an oddity even among the other stands of the group. Not only could it be physically interacted with by both humans and stands alike, but it also required a fuel source as well. Honestly, he was a little jealous. His stand was tailored for destruction in comparison.

Akira dismissed the thought as Makoto halted the bike, putting the kickstand down. The motorcycle vanished. Akira stood behind Makoto, holding her waist. In his introspection, he had forgotten to let go. Blushing and removing himself from her, he stepped back as he gestured to the entrance of the castle. By the door, Yusuke stood next to a passed out Haru.

Grabbing Haru's shoulders, he brought her over to Makoto, who then promptly placed her hand on her hips as she summoned the stand once more. 

"You'll be okay taking her back to the private clinic, right?"

Makoto turned around and looked back at Akira.

"I'll text you if anything happens. You stay safe yourself, okay? I'll meet you back at the hotel."

Akira nodded, and Makoto took off with Haru. 

Returning to Yusuke, the two entered Castel dell'Ovo.

\--01 / 06-- Morning

Two hours passed.

They hadn't found a single clue for Pericolo's keywords.

The two boys had already gone up and down the castle to no success.

"How about we examine the basement one more time?"

Taking Yusuke's suggestion, he reluctantly nodded. He couldn't give up next.

He looked down at the wristwatch Makoto had given him on Christmas.

10:00 A.M.

They were really lucky that the tour guides apparently didn't work on Sundays. The two waited at the entrance again as Makoto drove over to them along with Morgana.

"No luck so far, huh?" The smug cat observed.

If they were going to invade a palace, they would need at least a group of four.

Entering back into the basement, Makoto--out of her fear from the dark--jumped to grab Akira's arm. 

"Eep!"

She paused, seemingly realizing what she did.

"C-can I hold on to you?" She squeaked.

"You can hold onto me anytime, my Queen." He pushed his hair back as he said that.

To any other girl, he would sound like a clown.

Makoto Nijima was not any other girl as she whispered out a "thank you," and her face brightened red.

Using his third eye, he could see the terrified expression on Makoto's face. 

_Adorable._

A small part of himself reprimanded him for taking pleasure in her fear. It was sort of cute. The way the tough and serious student council president seemed to fold in on herself when surrounded by darkness. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for her that Akira enjoyed every time he got to witness it. It was the same way she would freeze up and redden profusely at his flirting or at sex jokes. 

Sadly, he had no time to think about that anymore as he explored the dungeon cells. Her grip on his arm tightened as he felt her chest against it. He gulped. For all his confidence with his looks and flirty nature, he had no clue with how to deal with this. Sure, he had kissed her, but that was different. He was in control of that situation.

Prying the doors of an abandoned cell open, he activated his third eye once more. The back wall of the cell glowed a bright yellow to his eyes.

 _How did he miss that last time?_ He was a little upset at himself. Morgana would chew him out for sure.

"Hey guys, I think I found something!" Akira called over the others.

Morgana didn't say anything, but he shot a look of disappointment at Akira for not noticing it earlier.

What was wrong with this wall? He pressed up against it only for him to phase through it and enter a secret room.

"Is this the result of a stand?" He told the others to be on their guard as he examined their surroundings.

Inside, an oak wooden beam hung over above them. Underneath it, a chain held up an iron cage.

Akira looked closer along with Yusuke. Inside the iron cage, a glass cylinder--seemingly full of water--contained to be what looked like a golden egg.

Yusuke spoke up.

"What a curious design!"

The egg was encrusted with various jewels.

He activated his third eye again.

_The egg was alive._

Was it the stand user? Not seeing any other options, he figured that must be the case. Morgana--a cat--had a stand. What were the requirements for something to have a stand anyways?

Morgana had this pleading look in his eyes as if begging Akira to steal it. The feline had a treasure addiction.

He summoned TDRC and used his curse tendrils to destroy the cage and cylinder alike. His hand reached out for the egg.

Everyone else seemed to wait in anticipation as Akira inspected it.

In his hands, the metal shell instantly peeled off of the egg like paper. Underneath it an identical shell emerged.

Makoto--still holding on to Akira--picked up the discarded shell as she brought attention to it.

"There seems to be something written on the inside of the shell." She handed it back over to Akira.

Reciting it aloud, Akira began.

"Dear Pericolo, your next mission is to bring my daughter Trish to Bucciarati for protection…" 

He trailed off as he realized their discovery.

They had found a key to both the boss and Pericolo's palace! The egg must have some ability that allowed it to relay secret messages. The knowledge that the boss had a daughter was useful as well. However, he was sure Giorno would know that, given that he was protecting her right about now.

He peeled off another layer.

"Dear Pericolo, your next instructions are to bring Coco Jumbo to the water fountain in Naples train station at approximately 12 o'clock January 6th. Afterwards, you are to leave a message for Abbaccio's stand to relay to Bucciarati's team. Then, you shall dispose of both yourself and the picture provided by the egg."

Akira recoiled. Did the boss just order Pericolo to kill himself? How obsessive was this guy when it came to his identity? He knew that they were dealing with real gangsters now, but still. To nonchalantly order your subordinate to kill themselves? It reminded Akira of Shido. 

The others seemed to agree as Makoto spoke up.

"Did this boss just order this old man to kill himself?" A fire burned in her eyes at the rhetorical question.

"I believe so." Yusuke replied.

Makoto kept quiet as she held that attractive look of determination on her face. 

It would have been inspiring if she wasn't clinging to Akira's arm.

Finally, another layer peeled off.

"I genuinely thank you for your service to me all these past few years. I truly appreciate your work. You'll forever be a member of the Passione family."

While Akira recognized it just as lip service, it did give him an idea as to what Pericolo's keyword could be. He pulled up his phone as Yusuke placed the egg back in the now broken cage. They walked back to the entrance.

"Home."

Expectedly, the meta Nav reacted.

" _Beginning navigation now._ "

They were overwhelmed by waves of purple and red as the castle transformed in front of them.

Instead of a fortress surrounded by harbor, a humble house stood surrounded by a field of green. Sounds of cicadas rang out throughout the yard. 

On the porch of the house, a short old man sat sleeping on a wooden rocking chair. He wore a flannel shirt and blue overalls. A straw hat was placed upon his head. He looked like the western depiction of American farmers. As the thieves approached him, the man's eyes opened, revealing bright yellow irises.

This was Pericolo's shadow.

Joker went for his knife and summoned Arsene. The rest of the group followed suit.

However, Pericolo did nothing as he smiled towards them fondly.

"The Phantom Thieves, yes? Polpo had told me you have joined recently," he reached out his hand towards Akira, "which makes us family."

Akira was confused. Normally, shadows weren't as inviting as this. The only one similar was Futaba's shadow, and she repeatedly tried to lead them to their doom on multiple occasions. 

He shook the hand regardless as Morgana seemed to shrug. What was this guy's distorted desires? He decided to ask Morgana as the old man opened the door for them.

"Do you sense a treasure here?"

"Yeah, I do. However, I can't tell for the life of me what it could possibly be the root of his distorted desires. Typically, they're the result of some sort of cognitive dissonance, but this guy seems too placated even for that."

They entered the red house expecting to be jumped at any angle. Nothing attacked them though. 

"We're about to have dinner soon. I can't wait to introduce you to the rest of the family." Mr. Pericolo stated.

Makoto responded, putting on a fake smile. "Thank you, Pericolo-san. We appreciate the hospitality."

It would be best if they went along with the man for now.

The house seemed to be in a state of disrepair. Despite Pericolo's assertions that he wanted to introduce them to the family, the whole house was empty.

Was Pericolo just lonely?

They entered the dining room. For a palace, it was a pretty humbled one.

Yusuke seemed to be oddly quiet, as if he was contemplating something.

At the center of the dining room, they recognized the golden haze. _The treasure. _They didn't have the time to send a calling card to steal it, but it was reassuring nonetheless.__

__Though the table extended for miles, not a single chair was taken._ _

__Pericolo sat at the side of the head of the table._ _

__He was waiting for the boss._ _

__"So what brings you to my home?"_ _

__"Well, we were just wondering if you had any information about the b--"_ _

__Akira interrupted Yusuke. He needed to change topics in case it perturbed Pericolo._ _

__"We just wanted to ask you if you knew anyone who would know anything about the stand arrows that the boss possesses."_ _

__Pericolo's expression didn't change._ _

__"I'm afraid I don't have any information about that subject. However, I could point you to someone who may."_ _

__Akira readjusted his glove. His watch read 11:45 A.M.. They had fifteen minutes before they needed to leave._ _

__"That will do."_ _

__Pericolo put down his meal as he recounted some of his old memories._ _

__"Approximately two years ago, a Frenchman belonging to the Speedwagon Foundation approached me on the subject. At the time, I told him nothing, but I recommend trying to find him if you want more info on stands."_ _

__Pericolo didn't know it, but Akira knew that this Frenchman would possibly have more info on the boss._ _

__"His name was Jean Pierre Polnareff."_ _

__Akira got up as if finished with his meal. Now was as good a time as any to leave. He knew that Pericolo won't tell them anything about the boss specifically, but this info was enough._ _

__As he got up, Pericolo's face looked… sad to Akira._ _

__Perhaps, no matter what way you look at it, a gang of criminals could not be a family._ _

__The group left as they looked back at the waving Pericolo on the porch behind them._ _

__The house was being engulfed in blue flames. Pericolo's shadow was consumed by them as he dissipated into nothing in front of their eyes._ _

__There was nothing they could do about it._ _

__Akira tightened his fist as the rest of the group reacted to the old man's death._ _

__"It's not fair to that sweet old man." Makoto's eyes were watering._ _

__Morgana didn't really know how to deal with this stuff. He just isolated himself from the others as he looked down at the ground._ _

__Yusuke looked frustrated with himself._ _

__As they returned to the real world, this success did not feel like a success at all._ _

__They couldn't even save a single person from this crime syndicate._ _

__It wasn't in vain though. Akira promised to himself that he would see to it that this wouldn't happen again._ _

__They had a new target. Jean Pierre Polnareff._ _

__If this man dealt with stands, then Akira had a hunch Koichi might know about him._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned to add in a cameo about the Bucciarati gang and la Squadra in Pericolo's palace, but I decided against it to emphasize Pericolo's loneliness. 
> 
> Also the egg's stand ability is "Time in a Bottle." I figured it'd be best if I named the stand in the notes than in the chapter. Araki had done the same with more insignificant stands or characters.
> 
> Nonetheless, I do hope you guys are enjoying it so far. Please leave any criticism or feedback in the comments below!


	9. The Man of Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information gathering and ominous warnings. (UPDATED)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossovers are fun. Thank you for reading this far! I hope to have this finished within the next 2 or 3 weeks. If not, I might have to take a hiatus for some time.
> 
> The initial chapter was posted on July 21st for reference.

\--01 / 06-- Daytime

Having arrived back at the hotel, the team waited for Haru to arrive post-surgery before they began discussing their findings from Pericolo's palace. Akira rubbed his eyes in frustration. They didn't have time for this. What if another stand user had found out their location and was waiting for them like Ribollita had? They had no experience with this sort of "kill or be killed" situation. As they waited, an odd silence overpowered the room. Despite the events of the past few days, they hadn't really discussed what they had done thus far.

Nobody really wanted to talk about how they had killed two people already. It was self-defense, but in the past, they didn't kill people for harming or threatening them regardless if the other party was trying to kill them. Akira could tell that it was eating at them. Ryuji, normally the rambunctious one of the group, brooded quietly in his wheelchair.

Ann sat beside him. She didn't wrap her arm around him. She didn't grab his hand as she had done in the hospital. She didn't even speak to comfort him. All she could do for Ryuji was just be there for him to lean on. Yusuke had lost all his eccentricness. His canvas remained blank no matter how long Yusuke looked at it. 

The only ones not brooding in silence were Makoto and Futaba. Whereas Makoto was most likely venting her emotions by studying for her college exams and researching Polnareff, Futaba had entered her "work mode" as she dubbed with Morgana looking over her shoulder.

One thought in particular disturbed Akira.

If they had faced Akechi in the context of a stand battle, would they have killed him too? These people were awful criminals who sold others like cattle, but that didn't change the fact that they could have been like Akechi too. They most likely had their own life stories or trauma that could have motivated them to commit such heinous actions. The burden was lighter now that they agreed to share the weight of their sins together, but that didn't make the deaths of these two individuals any less sinful. 

Ryuji had already faced the consequences of killing someone. His legs were burned from the inside out, and his hopes for a college scholarship were completely obliterated.

It wasn't too long that Haru entered the living room of the suite. Her fluffy curls seemed to have deflated somewhat. They lacked their normal bounce. Various bandages and stitches wrapped her arms and stomach, but the painkillers seemed to be working, as Haru didn't draw any attention to them.

She sat down at the table with the other thieves, who were too busy introspecting or working to notice.

Akira cleared his throat.

"We have got to stop this."

They all looked up confused, stopping what they were doing to listen to their leader.

"What do you mean?" Makoto asked. She put down her pencil and notebook to look into Akira's eyes.

The gesture of respect hurt Akira as he put himself together to say what he needed to.

"We can't just do this shit every time one of us almost dies and kills someone else in self-defense." He continued as her expression worsened. "It began after I had almost killed Polpo, and I thought we had resolved it then. But it's clearly only worsened with time."

"So what, just effin _not_ feel bad after we kill someone?" Ryuji's fist tightened on his wheelchair. It was rare for him to argue with Akira like this. Morgana, sure, that was normal. Akira was his best friend though. "What do you think we should do instead? Tell me, I'm all ears."

It was both a sarcastic jab at Akira and a desperate cry as though Ryuji genuinely did want an answer. A way to resolve the feeling in his gut that he so obviously hated. 

"I-I don't know! All I know is that we can't just keep twiddling our thumbs and feeling sorry for ourselves while these guys keep coming after us!" Akira threw his arms out. "I don't have the answer to this, but we can't just let ourselves get killed because we don't want to feel bad after killing someone after our lives!"

That seemed to placate Ryuji, as he slumped back down defeated. Yusuke spoke up in return.

"Then do you propose we continue without remorse towards those we kill?" Yusuke looked mad. "Then how does that make us any better than Madarame, Shido, or Akechi?"

Yusuke punched through his white canvas as he raised his head to Akira's, scorn in his eyes.

"I'm not saying that, and you know that." Frustration started building in Akira. "But I don't want to see any of us dying."

Haru remained silent. She understood where Akira was coming from. She didn't want to die when she fought Asternesi. However, she felt deeply ashamed. As she had turned the gangster's head into ground beef using her miniguns, she felt an excitement like never before. And because of that, she hated it.

"Stop it, all of you." Morgana chimed it. He put his claws on Akira's shirt white sleeve. "Akira, you can't just expect them not to feel conflicted after they have killed someone."

"Well what if they had hesitated before killing those guys? What if they had paused because they felt conflicted and that mistake caused them to get killed? These guys won't offer them the same courtesy."

Morgana backed down. "Well, I don't know either..."

"Well, of course you don't know what it's like to take a human life! You're just a cat who can't even understand what it's like to be a human and to take another human life! Stop pretending like it!" Akira recoiled. Did he really just say that? He didn't even have a point to make. He just wanted to put Morgana down. "Morgana, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Morgana had a depressing look on his face. His eyes were pointed downwards. His ears lowered. "No... You're right. I've known for a long time now that I probably won't ever become human."

The feline left the room, seeing as he wasn't wanted. The others were just in shock that the calm and collected Akira had just exploded like that. It was a side of him they had never seen before.

Though he apologized as fast as possible, the damage had been done.

Makoto decided then to try to shift gears. Joker wasn't acting like himself.

"Akira, you're right." Akira turned towards her as his eyes widened. "We can't afford to behave like this when it could mean one of us can die." She paused. "However, you had no right to say that to Morgana." 

Akira's mood worsened as he stared down at the floor.

"In the meantime, why don't we go over what we found in Pericolo's palace?"

Akira lit up as he moved to address the group once more. He had to put on his mask once more.

"Earlier today, while in Pericolo's palace, he mentioned a name."

The group's attitude seemed to noticeably brighten. They hadn't resolved the issues, but the situation of following Akira's orders was simply familiar to them.

"Jean Pierre Polnareff. According to Pericolo, he's tied to why the boss' goons all seem to possess stands."

"So why are you reiterating it to us? Can't we just do what we did with Pericolo and guess locations around Italy?" Ryuji asked, leaning back in his wheelchair. "I mean, it worked out pretty well last time."

Futaba raised her hand.

"I'd like to avoid staying up all night again, thank you."

"I don't think that'll work this time unfortunately, Ryuji." 

Everyone turned their heads to Makoto.

"Jean Pierre Polnareff is a French name. His palace isn't likely going to be located in Naples. It may not even be in Italy."

"So you're telling me we might have to go to another country just to get info on this guy? That's bullshit."

Akira sighed at his group's antics and interjected.

"Either way, since he apparently has to do with this Speedwagon Foundation, I figured Koichi might know about him." 

"Why Koichi in particular?"

"Because he mentioned something about it to me a while back before he left."

Yusuke leaned forward. His hands resting on his chin as he pushed back his hair.

"Well why don't you call him about it?"

Akira pulled out his phone and dialed the young man.

When Koichi picked up, he told him of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Akira, but I don't know anyone by that name. If you want more about Speedwagon Foundation members, you'll have better luck with Mr. Jotaro instead. I can give him your phone number if you want."

Agreeing to Koichi's proposal, they waited as they surrounded the phone. It took five minutes before Akira received a call from an unknown number.

Jotaro.

He answered his phone, and a gruff sounding man spoke from the other side.

"Akira Kurusu, right?" Whoever was on the other side of the call had an intimidating presence. 

"Yes sir. You must be Mr. Jotaro, correct?"

Jotaro sighed in response. Who was this kid? Had Polnareff contacted him? Did Polnareff have some news regarding his expedition in Europe and Africa? Jotaro admitted, he was glad that his best friend was supposedly still alive, but he was also concerned. What had happened in the past two years that he went off the grid for? Jotaro assumed the Frenchman was dead.

He patted the head of the little girl beside him as he brought her into an ice cream shop. It was a rare thing for Jotaro to be able to come home to Florida to see his wife and kid.

He cleared his throat.

"How do you know that name?" Jotaro waited for a response. 

"We had heard about him from this old man when we were looking into the origins of stands."

Akira lied. While it was partially true, he doubted that this guy would believe or even trust him if he came out and said 'we heard his name while we invaded the mind of a capo in an Italian mob!' 

Jotaro doubted his story but relented anyhow.

"Polnareff was a close friend of mine."

"How did you know him?"

Jotaro paused. Should he tell this kid about DIO and their expedition into Egypt? No. He could tell them that they had met in Cairo though. That itself wasn't entirely true either, but these kids didn't need to know everything. Considering Koichi asked him to call them, they were most likely stand users as well.

"We met a long time ago in Cairo, Egypt during an intense stand battle." It wasn't totally true, but he didn't want to risk getting attention from the remnants of DIO's followers either. Especially when they didn't know what these kids were going to do with this knowledge.

Akira stared in shock at the phone as the meta nav reacted to Jotaro's words.

Jotaro heard a robotic voice say something from the other side of the phone, but he decided not to draw attention to it.

"Since Koichi trusts you, I'll decide to not think much of this interaction. Deal?"

"Sure." He hung up. This Jotaro guy was really a 'no nonsense' kind of guy, huh. He was slightly relieved though. Akira didn't need the Speedwagon Foundation--whatever it was--breathing down his neck anyway. He was also grateful to Koichi for keeping his secret. He'd definitely have to hang out with him in Morioh once his probation finished.

**I am thou, thou art I…  
Thou hast acquired a new vow.**

**It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.**

**With the changing of bonds and the rebirth of the STAR Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.**

Either way, Haru had already begun reserving her private plane. Ryuji just dropped his jaw. 

Makoto spoke up.

"Are we really going to Egypt just for this guy?"

she brought her hand to her head.

"Considering the reaction from the meta nav, I don't think we've got a choice, Makoto."

She sighed. This trip was getting stranger by the minute. She had wanted to explore other parts of Italy and get Sae and Eiko souvenirs, but it looked like that wouldn't be the case. 

Well, she also wouldn't admit this, but she also wanted to share a romantic evening with Akira. She had planned it over with Ann and everything. She would take him out to a restaurant and would directly confess her feelings to him this time. It'd just be like her shoujo manga. However, she couldn't get mad at the others for getting excited for Egypt. She was interested in it, but she was a little disappointed too.

Was it too much to ask for just some peace and quiet after the battle with Yaldabaoth? Not this mortality stuff and not this group of stand users hunting them?

Either way, one thing was certain.

Their next destination was Cairo.

Haru had taken no time to research tourist spots along with Futaba. Hopefully, they'd actually have some time to be _real_ tourists this time around. 

Akira figured he should text Giorno about this.

AKIRA: We might need to leave the country in order to get information on a guy that might lead us to the boss.

Just how was Giorno doing anyhow. Had he faced any more stand users himself along with Bucciarati's gang?

Had he killed people like they did?

 _Polpo_. Akira didn't know why, but something told him that Giorno had something to do with the capo's death.

GIORNO: That's fine.

So Giorno was as non-reactive as ever. Why did Akira think that the blond might open up to them? It was dumb of him. For all of Giorno's charisma when it comes to his dream, he sure was intent on wearing the 'calm and collected' mask of his. Akira had noticed it immediately.

He wore the same mask too after all.

\--???/???-- ???

Ragu got up from his chair as the girl finished him off. Her outfit was skimpy. A black tank top revealing cleavage and a short plaid skirt. 

He knew it was an empty, fleeting euphoria, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. What was the the point of this world if not to partake in life's sensual pleasures? Religious and philosophical shit like that always pissed him off. When people called him a bad person for just acting out on his desires unrestrained by society, he always felt a sublime affirmation of his activities. As though their denial and rejection of him proved that he was in the right. They were just denying their base animal instincts that civilization had breeded out over time. He was just being honest with himself. Those limp dicks just refused their own desires to kill and reproduce. How was he any worse than them? He had these wants, and he knew that the people who criticized him did too. So how was _he_ in the wrong for not repressing them? This shit was black and white. How did they not get it? 

It was his own small form of rebellion if he was being honest. He had always been told "don't do that!" or "stop it!" or "you shouldn't feel that way!" or some other nonsense to put him down when he was younger.

Who the fuck were they to tell him how he can or can't feel? He had gotten so fucking sick of denying his impulses and lying to himself. Didn't everyone feel this way? They just had to. Otherwise, their team's business wouldn't have brought in as much profits as it did.

Ever since he started being true to himself, his heart had finally been calmed down and been at peace. Why couldn't everyone else fucking see that? They should all just follow his example so that they could partake in this. Maybe if they all stopped fucking lying, they could actually make the world a better place instead of just fucking pretending to be satisfied with themselves.

The smart and strong had a natural born right to rule over and manipulate the weak. Why was that so fervently denied by them? God damn it, this should have been an open-and-shut flat case. Why were they so fucking stupid?

He gestured the girl off as he checked the message he had received from Asternesi several hours back. Ragu tended to ignore that guy. His holier-than-thou attitude really pissed him off. Asternesi was literally doing the same fucking bullshit as them by manipulating vulnerable girls into becoming prostitutes. Furthermore, it's not like _all_ their workers were acquired that way. Hell, some of them were just fucking smart and didn't deny the fact that they had the natural instinct to have sex. _Those girls_ were the _only_ ones smart enough to have listened to Ragu and told him that they enjoyed their jobs. They made for both good company and good "entertainment" as well. Every time after their sessions, they would actually engage him in his rants. They quickly became his favorites because of that. He would also treat them better as a result, taking them on dates after work.

However, no matter how much Ragu attempted to persuade him that dumbass Asternesi never once wanted to actually sleep with any of the girls, so what gives? Even Ribollita, the wisest in the group according to Asternesi, partook in it from time to time. Although his reasoning for doing so was always fucking stupid to Ragu. Ribollita said he did it only because he was lonely. How fucking pathetic. If Ribollita had just taken what Ragu told him to heart, he wouldn't have to bother with shit like loneliness. Only people who have too much time on their hands bother with that. How could have Ribollita been so smart but not fucking agree with him on that shit?

Damn it, why did nobody fucking listen to what he had to say? All he was doing was championing honesty. Ragu swatted the bottle of wine on the table, shattering it and scaring the departing girl. 

Out of everyone in Passione, all the gangsters, assassins, elite guard, and gamblers, Ragu hated the fucking liars the most.

Apparently, that piece of shit Asternesi has gotten himself iced. _Good._ He was always such a prick, thinking that he was better than him. 

The girl left Ragu to wallow in his thoughts. However, his introspection would soon be interrupted by the sound of sirens. As he began walking to the entrance of his club, the noise grew louder and louder. At least he'd have some more entertainment for the night.

As he exited the neon doors of his nightclub, he felt a pair of handcuffs clamp onto his wrists. 

This would be fun.

Someone had sold him out. Whatever. These things happened. He could forgive them as long as they didn't quit servicing him. Their capo, Tiramisu, and Tagliatelle could deal with them.

But if the person who sold him out was one of his favorites, he'd have to beat the shit out of them if they tried to hurt her. That was an instinct too. He couldn't really care much about the girls Asternesi or Tagliatelle brought in. Tagliatelle may be like a mentor and best friend to him after she brought Ragu into their fold, but Ragu sure as fuck wasn't going to let them damage any of _his_ girls.

Tiramisu's stand may be fucking insane, but Ragu didn't care. If he played his cards right, he was confident that he could stomp his capo. Fuck, it's not like Passione was sure if Tiramisu was Italian anyways. 

And despite mentoring Ragu, Tagliatelle's stand _Beastie Boys_ was a fucking joke in comparison to his own. He always pulled most of the weight in the missions the two shared together after all. He didn't know her ability, but since she never fucking did anything, surely it wasn't anything too impressive.

Although the others warned him not to 'get high off his own supply,' he had ignored them. What was the point of this business if you couldn't partake in it? Fucking hypocrites. Even Tagliatelle would sleep with her own supply. Of course, never to the extent that Ragu did, but she still slept with the other girls and behaved like one of the boys.

The pig shoved him into the back of the cop car before getting in the front seat, only for the cop to hear the sound of someone opening and closing the car door. 

He looked towards the backseat of the car.

How had Ragu escaped? There was a lock on the back of the car. That was impossible. The cop shook his head. It had taken him so long for him to just track the human trafficker down. He wasn't going to let this happen. He wasn't going to allow that group of gangsters take anymore girls from their families.

The officer turned back around and grabbed his radio. Only to find that the wires to it had been cut.

He looked out the window of the car and stopped.

There, next to his car door, Ragu stood. Dressed sloppily in his black wife-beater and camo pants along with his buzzcut red hair, Ragu leaned forward and smiled at the police officer before bringing his hands up to see.

Somehow, Ragu had snapped the cufflinks, but that wasn't the cause for concern. The man's tribal tattoos didn't distract from the firearm that the criminal held in his left hand.

The cop's eyes went wide as he went for his own weapon, intent on defending himself. All he found was an empty holster.

Ragu placed the gun up to the man's head and started laughing.

The cop's eyes grew wider as he opened his mouth to scream, not noticing how the walls of his car were flattening in on itself. Ragu always enjoyed how much fun it was to fuck with do-gooders like this.

" _Slim Shady_."

_CRACK._

In a swift motion, the car's exterior flattened into a paper-thin sheet of metal. With a disgusting sound, the car crushed the cop into an arrangement of broken bones and flesh. Blood poured out from the crushed vehicle like a smashed soda can. One eyeball had popped out of his skull and now laid on the ground amidst the broken glass of the window shield. It was as though he had taken the car to be destroyed without leaving the car itself. The cop's blue uniform was now caked in his own remains.

"Oh man! What a dumbass!"

Keeling over and grabbing his stomach, Ragu laughed harder before stopping abruptly--like a robot--and leaving in the direction of the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I wasn't initially satisfied with how this chapter played out, so I decided to go back and add somethings I wanted to touch upon. I felt as though the initial chapter was a bit too light hearted, considering that Ryuji and Haru had literally killed people in the past few chapters.


	10. Lose Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stand user attacks the PT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is fun. Thank you for reading thus far!

\--01 / 07-- Early Morning

It was a restless sleep. 

Morgana promptly awoke after the car Haru had called in passed over a bump in the road. The plan was to drive to the airport and board Haru's private plane as early as possible. The sun had yet to come up.

He rested his head on the lap of lady Ann. The rest of the group remained asleep all except for the feline.

His paws rubbed his eyes. 

Yawning, he recalled yesterday's events. Egypt seemed so far away, but Haru had managed to reserve her private jet for them in just a single day. The resources of Okumura Foods would never cease to amaze him.

The view from the window of the car was covered in various greenery. Although they didn't spend a lot of time there, Naples had grown on him.

Oh well, they would be back in Italy soon.

He didn't want to think about the argument he had with Akira yesterday. How his friend had been so cruel to him. He didn't want to think about how his friend's claim that he could never truly understand what it's like to be human was most likely valid. He didn't want to think about how no matter how hard he tried to be human he could never truly be seen as such. 

He didn't want to acknowledge that, despite his friends' treatment of him, it was most likely impossible for them to see him as human. There wasn't any uncertainty about it anymore. He was created to be a cat, and even his existence as a cat was something that arrived by fluke. He was a last minute creation with only one purpose. To guide the trickster.

How could he ever understand the value of a human life? When they first started, he initially didn't have any qualms with accidentally inducing a mental shutdown in Kamoshida, unlike Akira and Ryuji.

How was it any different from the shadows that they defeated in the Metaverse? They killed those all the time, and half of those weren't even in self-defense.

Morgana paused as he stared back outside the car window.

Then it happened.

For a split second, he could have sworn he saw something black and red launch itself past the car in the direction of the airport.

He scratched at his ear. He was probably just tired. He had a lot to think about last night afterall. 

A loud pop had interrupted his thoughts. The car had briefly elevated slightly. The others soon began to awake.

The driver along with a now awake Akira had exited the car first to check what was wrong, the others following close behind them.

"What did you drive over to cause this?"

One of the tires had exploded. The group looked closer at it.

The rubber had burst from a fist-size hole in it.

Demanding an answer, the group diverted their attention from the wheel to approach their chauffeur. However, he was nowhere to be seen.

Morgana looked around from his position inside the car before he felt a drop of liquid hit his head.

He looked up.

Above him--on the ceiling of the car, a wet piece of paper drawn to look like a hand was stuck to the roof. 

When did that get there? Morgana got out of the car and followed the smell of the paper.

On the black road, a flattened red picture of a heart laid. It looked like roadkill. Who would ruin a perfectly good picture? It seemed pretty realistic too.

He followed the scent into the forest beside them.

He found the source of the stench, but he couldn't seem to see anything.

Another drop of liquid hit his head.

Morgana looked up.

His eyes expanded, and the cat began to sweat.

Those weren't pictures.

Above him, stabbed through the branch of a tree, their driver's body hung. His right arm missing.

His torso had a hole blown through where his heart should be.

He quickly turned back in the direction of his friends to yell at them to get on guard.

They were gone too.

In their place, a red-haired man stood holding a thermos.

The man looked at Morgana impassively and turned around, sliding some paper-thin object alongside five other ones. Behind him, a humanoid silhouette floated ominously. It's arms were covered in various jagged black and white patterns that ended in stumps instead of hands. Various white, fang-like spikes adorned it's brown torso. The legs were a sickly yellow and misshapen, bent in bizarre angles that ended in hooves as though it had several knees. 

It's head was a ghastly thing. Shaped like an under-water torpedo and wrinkly like a brain, it was anything else besides human. It's teeth jutted out like a bulldog's mouth. The eyes were just hollow holes that entered and exited the head. 

A stand.

"Well, that seemed easy enough." The man shrugged to no one in particular.

Morgana lunged at him with _Got To Be Real_ 's rapier, stabbing the man through his shoulder and forcing him to drop the thermos.

"What?!"

Morgana didn't respond as he knew the man wouldn't understand him, and he picked up the thermos anyways.

Morgana ran into the forest to hopefully escape with his friends. He didn't know what stand ability it was, but he knew it could flatten things. He assumed the man would have flattened the thermos to curse all his friends at once if Morgana hadn't done anything.

However, somehow, the man had caught up with him immediately. Morgana figured he must have flattened the ground beneath him and undid it to launch himself.

"You know, normally I like cats."

The man paused in front of the feline, causing Morgana to halt.

"They're good animals who don't really give a shit about others and just do what I want. And I can respect that."

The man continued ranting as he held his hand to his face.

"But to think that a little shit could have a stand and stab me in the shoulder like this REALLY pisses me off."

The man threw back his leg as Morgana braced for impact.

Only for the kick to phase through his body and hit the tree behind him.

"Oh motherfucker."

Morgana's stand ability had activated somehow.

Ragu summoned his stand to crush the cat instead. Enough bullshit.

Only for it to flatten the tree behind them instead, causing it to fold in half like paper. Ragu had failed to notice the body that hung on it, and he had been struck by the corpse when the tree violently launched it towards him.

Morgana quickly resumed his sprint into the forest, thermos still his mouth.

He brought out his stand once more. However, the rapier was now missing. Morgana assumed it had to do with his ability.

There, just ahead of him, he saw a clearing that led to a runway, Haru's plane just nearby.

After 45 seconds following its first use, the rapier materialized back into the hand of Morgana's stand.

There was a limit to the phasing ability as well. Got To Be Real can only cause all attacks within the first thirty seconds of stabbing the enemy to phase through him. He would need to manage his time in the 15 seconds of vulnerability he had.

"Do you think you can actually escape me?"

Before he had time to react, Ragu threw a left hook into the stomach of the dashing feline.

"Why can't you just be honest and fight me?! You're an animal aren't you?!"

_You're an animal, aren't you?!_

The words struck Morgana harder than he would like to admit. He was launched into the cement ground of the runway. 

He wasn't trying to run away though.

As Ragu threw himself on Morgana, the cat summoned Got to be Real once more and stabbed through the man's arms. The cat jumped forward, phasing through the gangster.

As the ground folded beneath Ragu, he heard the distinct sound of an engine. What was that?

He turned around.

The pilot's face screamed terror as the plane failed to stop before it hit the bystander. 

Only for the plane to immediately flatten and explode, killing several civilians. 

Breathing hard, Ragu stood up, now burned and covered in cuts.

"Now that's better."

It was better for the little shit to actually fight him. He hated cowards.

"I think I understand your ability now."

Morgana frankly was terrified.

"You can make all my attacks phase through you for about 30 seconds right? Then there's a cool down, ain't there? Otherwise, you wouldn't have ran away."

This guy wasn't human. He had justed ended the lives of around 40 people without blinking as though it was just a minor inconvenience.

"You don't need to answer. I've got you cornered now."

Ragu centered himself once more as he waited for the thirty seconds to end. His watch counted down once more.

His clothes were now in tatters, but he couldn't give a shit. His adrenaline was pumping him forwards. One step at a time, he walked over to the hesitating cat as he entered into an empty warehouse. The cat was pressed up against the wall, scared of what to do next.

25.

Another step.

24.

Blood gushed from the wounds on his shoulder and arm. 

23.

That fucking cat should have gone for his throat to begin with.

22.

Was he fucking look down on him?

21.

Just like Asternesi?

20.

...

Several more seconds passed as he slowly walked over to the exhausted feline.

Until finally, his watch hit thirty.

He brought back his fist as to turn the cat into roadkill and lunged forwards.

Only for Morgana to jet out between his legs and trip him into hitting the wall.

Oh fuck.

He has been too concerned with the stand to notice. 

Morgana was grateful. If this guy wasn't so close-minded, he'd be dead right now.

The walls of the warehouse began to fold in on itself as the cat escaped through the entrance. A creepy creaking sound of metal folding and cement cracking reverberated.

Ragu gasped for air one last time before the walls of the warehouse crushed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fights is hard.


	11. Sabotage Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana makes a realization that scares Akira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again! I hope you enjoy. I've kind of had an erratic schedule, but it's nice to see that we're almost near the half-way point.

\--01 / 07-- Morning

Morgana knew Akira was right, damn it. He's always known that he's not human. So for him to kill a human just felt _wrong_ to Mona. 

He had been absolutely terrified when he defeated Ragu. Not out of fear for his own life, but out of fear for his enemy's. Even though the feline knew that there could only be two endings to the battle. Either he killed Ragu. Or Ragu killed him and his friends.

Morgana had made the only decision he could. According to Morgana, the life of a human trafficker was nowhere near as valuable as the lives of his friends. 

He knew that, but he still didn't like how the decision shortened his breathing and tightened his chest. 

He turned around to look at the results of his choice. Ragu's corpse, now scattered across the flattened warehouse, made for a horrific sight for the phantom thief. _He did this._

Was this how Akira, Ryuji, and Haru felt after their stand battles? Morgana had experience with fights in the Metaverse, but this was a different level of intensity. While he was confident in the abilities of him and his team in the Metaverse, they fought against unthinking shadows there.

Not sentient, living beings.

He was beginning to see the value in what Akira had said earlier. They couldn't afford to think about this when their lives are at stake.

So, Morgana made a new decision.

Ragu was never a person to begin with.

Human traffickers weren't people. They were just monsters wearing human skin.

The burden felt lighter on his shoulders as he left the warehouse with the thermos in order to avoid seeing the horrific sight of blood, fat, and guts again.

Thank God for the stand ability not undoing itself on the team yet.

Now near the entrance to the airport proper, Morgana unscrewed the top to the thermos. 

The flattened, unconscious bodies of his friends flew out of the metal canister and returned to their normal forms as Morgana accidentally dropped it in shock.

Their forms were piled up on each other, with the girls on top of the boys.

Akira was the first one to wake up, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he got up from the ground. He looked around and directed his gaze on to Morgana, who was looking more disheveled than usual. The last thing the black-haired teen remembered was being attacked by some silhouette--most likely a stand. Concerned, he opened his mouth to ask Morgana what happened. Only for the cat to surprise him.

"You were right." Morgana looked forlorn and determined at the same time. His posture was straight, and his eyes were steady. But something in them reflected sorrow.

Something was indeed wrong. Morgana _rarely_ admitted to being wrong.

"About what?" 

Akira began to check on the state of his other friends. He hunched over Yusuke's collapsed form and checked his pupils to see if they dilated correctly. No concussions thankfully. He moved on to the next closest person. And then the next. And so on and so forth.

"About the whole 'we can't afford to keep doing this shit' thing."

Oh. Had Morgana…?

He immediately asked Morgana about the enemy stand user and was worried for his friend.

"It becomes a lot easier when you don't view them as human anymore."

He stopped.

_"What."_

Morgana repeated himself and explained that he felt a lot better after he began to think that Ragu and his friends thus far weren't human. They gave up their humanity after they had sold other people's lives.

Akira was worried for his friend for an entirely different reason. 

He knew for a fact that this was a toxic mindset. It sounded like something that a shadow of a palace ruler would say. Shido in particular.

"Morgana that isn't what I--"

Before he could finish however, the rest of the crew began to awake, yawning and stretching much like he had.

"Ugh, my head hurts. What happened?" 

Ann was the next one to wake up after Akira.

"Morgana, we'll continue this conversation another time."

As the two of them caught the others up to speed, they began to head back into the airport. Haru was in the front, leading them to her private jet and ignoring the warnings and flashing lights near the runway next to the airport.

\--???/???-- ???

That idiot had gotten himself killed in the most humiliating way possible. What kind of dumbass gets themselves killed by their own stand?

She sighed. How was she supposed to explain this to Tiramisu? She hated talking to him. He always seemed to side track their discussion by talking about how great his family was. Tch. She really didn't know why he was a capo. The boss must like him or something. 

Tiramisu's family all died around back in the 80s anyhow, but for some reason, the near forty-year-old couldn't talk about anything else. Like how they were "noble warriors" that always left Naples at some point for some journey. Probably just some bullshit he got fed as a little kid, she bet.

As for Ragu, damn it, why did he get himself killed like that? She clenched her fist. She knew how strong and versatile his stand was, but somehow he had managed to fuck it up.

She certainly was mad at Ragu, but she hated something else more.

_The Phantom Thieves._

They had killed three of the members of the team already. Bunch of fucking brats. How dare they disrespect her like this?

Tiramisu already left her to deal with them with her stand. _Beastie Boys_ wouldn't have any problem dealing with these snotlings. She promised to make them suffer for their blatant disregard for their superiors and for killing Ribollita, Asternersi, and Ragu. She would kill those brats in their names.

Her capo also told her that if even she wasn't successful, he'd be sure to plunge their hearts into despair before they died. He had already left for Japan. She sure didn't like Tiramisu, but the thought of those thieves suffering inspired her to put it all on the line this time. She normally was apathetic to the group, but they had endeared themselves to her. And now they were gone.

She left the warehouse after grabbing Ragu's smartphone. It was broken to all hell, but that didn't matter. As long as it still emitted blue light, she could use it.

Her sandals slapped against the concrete floor as she wondered about her capo.

What was his fucking malfunction? Sure, his stand was quite powerful. And sure, all the other--now dead--teammates swore their lives to and deeply admired him, but for her, she couldn't give a shit. To her, Tiramisu Zeppeli was just another fucking crook like them and an old man who hadn't done anything of note and relied on the accomplishments of his ancestors. Get with the times.

She brought up her phone to her ear and turned it on. People seriously needed to recognize the benefits of technology and get ready for the future.

Tagliatelle vanished, leaving nothing behind to trace her.

\--01 / 07-- Daytime

They waited outside of the terminal as they prepared plans for Polnareff's palace.

How were they going to approach it? For some reason, Akira could feel that this palace was going to be something unimaginable.

As he waited for the plane to arrive, his eyes slowly drifted asleep.

Only for him to reopen them when he heard Makoto scream from a distance away. Quickly standing up, he immediately jolted to action. He jumped out of the elevated terminal door, cushioning the impact on his knees with _They Don't Really Care About Us_. Where were the others? He felt like he'd actually kill someone if she was being threatened or if she was hurt. 

Why hadn't this stand user taken him?

In some dark part of his heart, he secretly desired to tear this person to pieces. Even if they begged for mercy, he wouldn't stop. He knew that he wouldn't. He couldn't afford to let them hurt--let alone threaten--his friends. 

No wonder his stand was so destructive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!


	12. Sabotage Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto fights a stand user. Elsewhere, Goro Akechi is held captive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than usual, I suppose. I really hope you guys are enjoying it though.

Akira had fallen asleep on the bench of the terminal waiting area. How he managed to stay so calm under pressure, she didn't know. 

Recognizing that he needed rest, she left him alone as the others typed away on their phone or browsed the internet. The airplane was nowhere in sight. They had some time to kill.

Makoto glanced back at Akira. He seemed so vulnerable like this. They were used to his bold leadership, but only Makoto really knew about his insecurities. 

A flash of light appeared for a millisecond and disappeared.

She looked back at the others. However, all she found was their phones, except for Futaba's.

This was most likely a stand-user.

They were jumped almost every single time they encountered a stand user. Someone would overlook something strange, and things would get bad quickly. 

She didn't have much time. Akira was still asleep. He didn't wake up when she shook him.

He must have been so tired.

She would need to figure out this stand user's ability if she was going to turn the tables on them. Summoning her stand, she grabbed the other phones and put them in her purse. 

Considering only their phones were left over, she had a suspicion that the ability had something to do with them.

She decided then to bait the user.

The TV at the corner of the ceiling was still playing. If phones worked, then what about a TV? Just what was the ability?

She didn't have much time to think when she spotted an oddly dressed woman sprinting from the phone of an airplane attendant outside and towards another phone.

_The user._

This girl was reckless, but she was most likely trying to get to her and Akira once she realized that their phones won't be of any use to her.

So she would use that to her advantage.

Makoto summoned _Wolfmother_ before leaving the room on her bike, breaking the windows leading outside as she drove through the glass. The black and gold motorcycle bumped as it hit the ground.

Now on the runway, she set up her trap.

She pulled out her phone. Assuming it needed to be on for the ability to work, she prepped her trap.

She put her phone on the concrete ground before turning it on and getting ready to jump her the second she got out of the phone.

Sure enough, it worked. The woman, wearing a pale pink pair of pants adorned in a light green flower pattern and a short-sleeved, v-neck, cropped black cardigan with no undershirt to expose her gold chain necklace and her midriff, took the opportunity to jump out of the phone at Makoto. Her hair was a curly black that flowed back as she attacked the student council president. 

Makoto had been prepared. She hit the gas and launched Wolfmother into the woman.

Only for the woman to disappear before it could impact her.

"I knew you'd do something like that."

She couldn't identify the source of the voice.

"For Ribollita, Asternersi, and Ragu, I will kill you slowly."

She jumped back on her bike as a black object passed her overhead. She darted towards the runway.

"You cannot escape my stand, _Beastie Boys_ , by running."

Makoto felt like she was talking to a professional. Someone who had decades of experience in her field.

"I, Tagliatelle, will personally hunt you before slicing the throat of that sleeping teenager."

If she was going to chase her, Makoto was going to lead her away from Akira.

She darted towards the opposite side of the runway as Tagliatelle materialized and vanished, following Makoto.

She looked back behind her, only to see a chunk of concrete fly past her.

She swerved to avoid the projectile. It looked like it had been taken from the side of a building. It collided with the ground with a sickening crunch. She would have died if she didn't avoid that.

Sure enough, the radio tower ahead of her was missing a good bit of concrete at its base.

Her heartbeat increased as she tried to puzzle out the ability.

She was able to launch and teleport from phone to phone so as long as it was on.

Using a staircase leading to the top of an airplane as a ramp, Makoto used the time in air to think as the motorcycle descended towards the ground.

But what connected the phones together?

What made it so that she could pass through one phone and enter out another?

 _Screech_.

That sounded like the twisting of metal.

She turned around once more, to see an airplane turbine, spinning its blades at ludicrous speeds, fly towards her from above.

"Stop dodging."

She had to be quick. As the turbine approached, she deactivated her stand and slid on the ground to avoid getting chopped into pieces by the turbine. A large gash cut open her arm. The thing nicked her, but it could have been much worse.

Sweat started pouring from her as she got back up on her feet and ran. She summoned her stand once more and jumped onto the already moving vehicle.

She dodged a turbine that had been launched at her. Wolfmother roared its engine as she increased the speed. How was she able to store and shoot objects that far away at her?

Wait. Store.

What if it wasn't teleporting, but storing objects into the phone and exiting them at different velocities, sort of like the cloud? Makoto wasn't too familiar with technology, that was Futaba's expertise, but she knew that many of the photos on her phone were shared with Sae.

Sae had chewed her out because of one photo from when her and Akira were fake dating. How could she forget?

That had to be it. Maybe it had to do with the amount of light produced on the phone?

Makoto gambled that had to be the case. It would explain why her friends had disappeared. They had all been on their phones when they disappeared.

"Stop running."

Another corner of concrete from the radio tower flew by.

She had successfully evaded another projectile.

She had a plan in place.

 _CRACK_. The sound of crumbling concrete entered Makoto's range of hearing.

The projectiles weren't meant to defeat Makoto. They were meant to block off her means of escape. As she drew closer to it, the radio tower began to lean over before thunderously slamming into the ground in an explosion of dust, leaving the runway from that point covered by its ruins. Shattered glass, cracked concrete, multicolored rubber wires, foundation metal poles, and various other destroyed building parts covered the ground.

Then, through the concrete dust, she saw it. Civilians who had been caught in the destruction. 

Various ones were crushed by the concrete. Some were impaled by the metal poles. Others had gotten lucky.

It angered her greatly.

This injustice to sacrifice those uninvolved in this battle. 

Tagliatelle had been attempting to corner her and used their lives as tools.

She stopped her motorcycle and turned around.

Sure enough, the human trafficker was right behind her.

"You've failed, and you don't even know it."

Makoto opened her mouth to speak. This one was oddly calm. From what she heard from Ryuji, Haru, and Morgana, their opponents were enraged, making them overlook certain key things that led to their downfall.

"I could have just killed your friend here. You seem smart enough to figure this out."

She pulled out a familiar green phone with an anime wallpaper on its lockscreen.

"You've already put together that I use the phones to move and fire objects. But in reality, I used the blue light from the phone to grab people and convert them into data, storing them into their phones as storage information."

The previously unemotional enemy had a fierce smile on her face now. It was a twisted and warped thing that disturbed Makoto. Tagliatelle put her hand on her waist and leaned forward, mocking Makoto.

"What do you think will happen if I destroy the phone I've stored your friend in, huh?"

Something inside Makoto snapped beyond her threshold. She clenched her fist harder, digging her fingernails into her palms. Her face twisted in a rage. She knew the enemy was just toying with her before she converted Makoto into data. Makoto had her back literally against the wall.

But her enemy made one mistake.

This was a psychological battle as well as a physical one.

She recalled what Morgana told her about his fight.

"Ragu died like a pathetic idiot, you know."

This brought Tagliatelle out of her sadistic trance and caused her to recoil. She didn't know why she reacted so much to the statement.

"Yeah, he died because of his own stand ability."

Tagliatelle knew this already. Fucking idiot.

"Imagine how pathetic that was, to die to your own stand ability? He was flattened like a pancake because of his own incompetence. Although, I guess that's not too different from how your other friends died."

Tagliatelle knew this too. They disgraced the human trafficking team. That's why she got so pissed when they died, right? That's why she hated them.

Makoto pressed harder on this opportunity. If Tagliatelle were to attack her out of rage without using her ability, then Makoto had a chance.

"Ribollita died because he underestimated our friend. That was so pathetic too. He ended up having his brain fried because of it."

Tagliatelle didn't know that.

"And don't even get me started on that Asternesi guy. He straight up just left mid battle and came back only to receive tens of bullets through his head. God, you guys are so sad."

Makoto laughed at Tagliatelle mockingly. She hated to act like this even if she didn't mean it. She knew how much killing those two had affected Ryuji and Haru. The two hadn't been the same since. She hated this woman more though for using Futaba as a hostage and for taking the lives of innocents.

Tagliatelle just needed one small push before she did something stupid. Makoto knew it but didn't know why. This woman seemed like the type to be the brains of the team with a hidden rage.

"For a group of people meant to manipulate and kidnap people, you really have no self-awareness! You've got no pride! Otherwise, you wouldn't be using a hostage. Because that's the only way you can win, right?! However, you've never truly won at any time in your life! You've got no strength of your own!"

That did it.

"How dare you! I'll kill you!" Tagliatelle fell for it. "I don't fucking need any hostages to take you down, dammit! Not for little shits like you!"

She put Futaba's phone away beside her to prove her point. She was going to show this bitch that she didn't need anyone or anything to give her an edge over her! She always won! In every battle or relationship and even in life in general! She was above them, eternally victorious! She wasn't like her failed allies who died as fools!

"Come at me!"

Pulling out her own phone, Tagliatelle planned on storing only half of Makoto's body in the phone, splitting the bitch in two! She wouldn't know what would kill her! Then she'll go and destroy the phones one at a time before decapitating that sleeping fuck!

Makoto summoned her stand immediately and jumped on the bike. Roaring, she put the pedal to the metal as she flew forwards.

Tagliatelle brought out the phone in front of her.

"I've got you now! Die!"

She turned on the phone and activated Beastie Boys. Only to receive nothing to store in her phone.

Makoto jumped off of the bike and sent the thing flying at her. Covered in scratches, Makoto laid at the side, just out of Beastie Boys range. She had made a gamble.

Hopefully, this ability of Tagliatelle's didn't work on stands.

It didn't.

She saw how Tagliatelle's limp body crumpled at the collision and flew back, and she heard the way her ribs shattered at the contact with the bike. One of her ribs had inverted in on herself, stabbing through her side. It was like a small explosion had gone off inside her chest. The way her lower half went limp. The way the bone became visible. It was cathartic yet horrific to Makoto.

Tagliatelle screamed as her spine snapped and her ribs caved in.

Makoto breathed heavily. In and out.

She breathed out in relief. She was much luckier in comparison to her friends, considering Tagliatelle was still breathing. The collapsed chest of the female human trafficker inflated and deflated. She was still alive.

The sound of shoes slapping against concrete brought her out of her focus.

Akira had woken up and must have noticed the battle. He was running to her.

She recoiled when she saw his face.

It was a frightening sight. His gray eyes twisted in a way that disturbed Makoto. They had a dark fire behind them that Makoto had never seen in Akira before. Had he normally repressed this aspect of himself, she wouldn't know.

He halted as he noticed that Makoto was safe. His features softened immediately as he looked her up and down to confirm her safety.

"Is she still alive?"

They heard the defeated opponent cough.

"I should have won…" Tagliatelle rasped out. She broke out into a vicious cough, spurting out blood.

"But you… pissed me off on purpose, didn't you?"

Akira was relieved. This time they wouldn't have to kill anyone, thanks to Makoto. He told himself that he hated how they would have to kill in self-defense and how it was a necessary evil. It made him feel like Akechi. He had chastised him for killing, but was he really any different? If Shido had killed Sojiro or if his palace had actually killed Ryuji, Akira would have wanted far more than for the bald man to confess.

He would have wanted his head on a platter for public display. Was this how Akechi felt? This murderous fury? Sure, it didn't stick and quickly vanished, but he felt it rise like a short fuse when someone threatened someone he knew and cared for. He wasn't going to lose anyone after he had been abandoned by his friends in Morioh. These people were the only ones who still cared for them, and how dare this piece of shit threaten them!

He shook off the thought. If he was to be the righteous individual that he wanted people to look up to, he would need to move past and repress these violent urges. He knew they were temporary. He wasn't Akechi. He had his friends there to stop him from doing any of that.

He walked over to Makoto and smiled.

"Oh thank God."

Makoto was glad to see Akira return to his normal self, and the dark determination in his eyes quelled down. 

Akira was truly grateful. He--in all honesty--was terrified. He often put on a mask of confidence for them as a leader, but it was becoming harder and harder with the do-or-die nature of stand battles.

How was he supposed to comfort them when he had no experience with killing, only this fleeting "in the heat of the moment" murderous rage? How was he supposed to argue that their opponents were still human but his friends shouldn't be sad or scared about what they had done? 

Something about the way he said it pissed Tagliatelle off more. The way he ignored her.

"You've killed all my friends so far."

It hurt so much to talk. One of her ribs had pierced her lungs. Breathing was an excruciating experience.

"Don't pretend that you won't have to do the same with me."

Akira paused. He really didn't want to kill her. His rage had already subsided and was under control. It was arguably hypocritical of him. He had told Morgana and the others to not hesitate, but here he was. 

He shook his head and stared down at the opponent. Makoto had filled him in on the fight. He was happy that Futaba and the others were safe.

"We only killed in self-defense." Akira justified. It sounded more like he was talking to himself than to Tagliatelle.

"Don't lie to me…" she coughed and smiled at him. Her grin was covered in crimson. "I see it in your eyes."

"..." Akira knew what she was talking about. When he heard Makoto scream, he had no thoughts except one: to punish the enemy and take their life if they dared to hurt one of his friends. 

Had she killed Makoto, she wouldn't be breathing.

"You're just like the others…"

"You got the eyes of a killer. I saw that void in your eyes."

Makoto cut her off. She knew that she was just trying to anger Akira out of a weird distorted sense of pride. She didn't want to see Akira do something he'd regret.

"She's speaking nonsense, Akira. Just ignore her."

Akira turned around, following Makoto's advice.

"I saw the way you wanted to kill me when you approached."

"You wanted to kill me because I hurt your friends, right?"

Akira stopped and turned back around.

Above her head, she held a phone, ready to shatter it on the ground.

"You're no different from us after all! You're just a naïve child if you think you can avoid getting your hands dirty in this world! We'll kill you! I'll hunt you down if I live here! We'll kill your friends in Japan too! We already know them!"

As she threw down a phone, Akira lunged with TDRC's curse tendrils. The look in his eyes returned with a strengthened rage. Makoto activated her stand too to finish off Tagliatelle, but she was a step behind her leader.

"I knew it…."

The human trafficker looked elated.

"You're a killer too."

She wasn't going to let them take the easy way out of this shit.

"I win…"

She laughed one last time before the rest of her face ceased to exist. Her face and body began to rot and bubble into nothingness, similar to the effect of corrosive acid on flesh.

Upon closer inspection, it wasn't even Futaba's phone.

She had goaded him into melting her face off with the curse effect of TDRC, forcing him to betray his words right in front of Makoto.

He really was not so different from the criminals of this gang. They had killed and harmed their friends too. Sure, you can argue that they deserved it for being human traffickers, and it's only natural that those who trade human lives as a business would lose their own.

He wished he had Koichi to talk to. Joker wondered if he had this lethal anger as well with that murderer in Morioh from last year.

He stood in silence as his friends began to re-emerge from their phones while the fake phone in Tagliatelle's hand remained off. 

Makoto was in shock. The boy she has a crush on just killed someone. She shook her head.

She was going to smash-in Tagliatelle's skull with her motorcycle. She couldn't blame him for doing it in the heat of the moment.

Would her father want this? Sure, he had killed criminals in gang related fire fights with the police. Some part of her, however, doubted that he would approve of his daughter doing it though.

He always seemed so forlorn when it came to that aspect of his work.

As Akira's disappointment expressed itself on his face, he looked down at the hand that fired the curse tendrils. All he had done was casually snapped his fingers and fired one. Was that all it took? To cross the threshold between being normal and being a killer? 

"I don't know what to do anymore."

It wasn't out of despair.

"It's okay."

Makoto moved to comfort him. She hugged him as soon as she noticed the familiar expression. She often wore it herself as it related to her family. She already proved herself that she was enough to herself. 

Akira didn't respond. 

The look on his face was vacant.

Makoto gulped and spoke up again.

"You only did what you thought you had to. Please talk to me, Akira."

Makoto begged him to open up and embraced him as his eyes grew more downcast.

"That's not true."

She heard him out.

"In that split second, I wanted nothing more than to kill her. Not to protect Futaba, but to end her life for almost taking someone away from me out of rage."

"I don't think that's too abnormal."

His features softened slightly.

"I wanted to end her too when she initially threatened Futaba. If you hadn't gotten to her first, I would have crushed her head with Wolfmother."

His face darkened.

"I don't know what to do about this."

He was emotionally drained.

"I think I need some time to think."

The others began to reawaken as Futaba noticed the sight in front of her.

"Wow, that's really bold of you Makoto! What a champ!"

She had noticed the clothes of the defeated enemy on the ground, and she put the scene together.

Futaba teased her to make her blush and to hopefully cheer up Akira, but it didn't work. He didn't move to tease the now tomato-red girl. He didn't move at all as Makoto continued to hug him despite all the teasing from their friends, who had woken up and joined in with Futaba to cheer him up. He heard what they had to say and answered their questions, but he didn't truly process it. Their words just entered his mind as soundless vibrations.

He still didn't react.

He simply removed himself from her embrace and thanked her for it. He just stopped caring about all the social masks he wore.

He noticed Makoto's presence once more and acted without thinking and without emotion. It was just empty habits and behaviors that he had accumulated over the past year. He didn't need them anymore.

"Makoto, I love you."

Whispering into her ear, he admitted his love for her. Normally, this would make Makoto ecstatic, but there was no emotion behind it, no person behind it. It was all rote. It seemed more like a warning than a fierce declaration of love.

She blushed fiercer, and she didn't know what else to say. She didn't know if he meant it in a romantic sense or not, but even if he did, which wasn't at all likely according to her, she desperately wouldn't want it to happen like this. It was sad and lacked any investment behind it.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She knew something about this was _wrong_. She didn't want it to happen this way, not that she knew exactly how she felt to begin with. 

He removed himself from the group and told them to follow him into Haru's private plane for Egypt. It had just recently arrived at the gate despite all the chaos around them.

He also needed to call in a favor to Koichi with the Speedwagon Foundation back in Japan. 

He just wanted some time to himself. He left Makoto something to think about. He just sort of wanted some time alone.

He picked up his phone and called a certain acquaintance. He could only hope that they would help him convince Jotaro-san for a favor.

\--???/???--???

Elsewhere, Goro Akechi rotted in his jail cell. Day in and day out, Sae would interrogate him about the events of the past two years between him and Shido. Apparently, the man's lackeys were still trying to cover for him in order to save themselves. However, now, since they had a main contributor actively working against them, they were becoming more and more desperate. 

It wasn't until he confessed to being Shido's child that things really started to pick up. Many members of the conspiracy didn't know how to deal with this. They could not contradict the results of the DNA test from when Sae had taken him to a surprisingly popular, yet run down private clinic in Yongen-Jaya. It helped a lot when the Shido supporters said that he performed the mental shutdowns by his own accord and not his superior's. It established a connection with him and the politician.

He was satisfied. Shido would live the rest of his life in infamy one way or another. He'd beg for his forgiveness only to receive none. 

He had also fulfilled his debt to Akira now. 

When they had brought Shido in to interrogate him on how he knew Akechi, Shido broke down into tears. He apologized for making Akechi involved in the grizzly murders of countless political figures. 

So when Akechi broke the news to Shido about being his son, he felt a sadistic glee when Shido broke down harder, mumbling another apology for abandoning his mother and wailing about making his only son into a killer.

He knew Akira wouldn't be doing this if he were here. Thankfully, he wasn't here. He could savor the results of his revenge fully without some bullshit about justice.

This was a very personal vendetta. Nothing more.

Oddly enough, he couldn't remember anything from the incident in Shido's palace to the alleged defeat of Yaldabaoth at the hands of Akira. He had just… appeared in front of Akira, knowing what had to be done.

He was deeply concerned with this, but everytime he tried to think about what happened during that time period, he received a head-splittingly painful migraine.

If he couldn't puzzle out what happened, then it didn't really matter. He was alive for now, even if he'd be under a life-sentence for mass homicide.

He looked up at the damp concrete ceiling of his cell. His orange jumpsuit seemed to fit him nicely as he laid his head back on the cold, metal bed. 

Akechi had experienced worse when being transferred over and over again between foster homes.

As he waited, a guard had approached his cell and hit the side of the bars with a baton.

_CLANG._

"Wake up inmate. It's time for another interrogation."

He walked out of the cell, handcuffed, following the guard to Sae Nijima's interrogation room as he passed by a variety of characters.

He didn't know why, but this was a private prison. So why were all previous palace rulers being held exclusively here? Everyone except that old Madarame were all being held here. They made for miserable company.

Who exactly owned this prison? Was it a third party looking into the affairs of the Phantom Thieves, intending to uncover knowledge about that world through him?

He knew he wasn't in Tokyo anymore. So imagine his initial surprise when Sae told him that she'd be living here for a while.

What did the letters "SPW" even mean? It wasn't an acronym that he was familiar with.

As he entered the interrogation room, there was something deeply strange about it. Along with Sae Nijima, two complete strangers leaned on the back wall of the room, and another stranger sat next to Sae.

He wore an ironed out police uniform. Multiple unauthorized, golden badges that Akechi wasn't familiar with adorned the outfit. A peace sign. _Classy_. And an anchor. 

They were likely located in a coastal town far from Tokyo.

This cop had the notorious yankee hooligan haircut too. It looked like a cow turd on his head. Who would style their hair in such a way? In this day and age?

Not that he would tell the cop that. He didn't want to provide him with any possible more reasons for him to antagonize the former prince detective. Other cops had no qualms with martial punishment or " _coercion_ " when Sae wasn't around, not that they needed to in order to get him to confess. Either they had family members who suffered mental shutdowns or they were remaining members of the Shido conspiracy who threatened to kill him if he talked. Akechi had no allies on both sides of the conflict now. Sae hated his guts too. She just didn't want to see a criminal receive unlawful treatment.

Something about that invoked a melancholic feeling in him.

He brought his eyes back up to inspect the cop one last time.

This guy didn't even look any older than him really. He must have just graduated or was close to graduating from highschool. So why was he the one interrogating him?

Nepotism most likely. A relative or a higher up or something. Although, he didn't really have the right to criticize. He became a detective prince because of his connections after all.

The two behind him were equally bizarre. They weren't even cops, and Akechi even recognized one.

When his interest in the manga "Pink Dark Boy" was uncovered by Futaba, she flooded him with trivia about both the series and the mangaka behind it. It was a nerdy passion of his that he would rather keep under raps, but the gremlin had uncovered his appreciation of the series when she referenced it. He had been the only one to react, and she put two-and-two together.

Rohan Kishibe. He looked no different from the photos Futaba spammed him. He still didn't understand the midriff thing.

Finally, another figure, that of a hunched-over old man stood besides him. His facial structures seemed to suggest to Akechi that he was American. 

Sae seemed to have a particular interest in the mangaka for some reason as well. 

"To whom do I owe this pleasure to, Nijima-san?"

The man at the table stood up and put his hand on his hip.

"Josuke Higashikata. I'm only shadowing under Sae-san to learn more about law-enforcement."

That was a lie. Akechi could tell. If Josuke wanted to shadow under someone to become a cop, he could have worked with an actual one. Not a prosecutor in the middle of a legal case with the potential to reveal a huge national conspiracy to the public.

"Higashikata-san, I'm not so naïve as to believe that shadowing under a prosecutor was your only option to learn more about law enforcement."

Sighing, Josuke pulled something out from the drawer of the table. Sae glared at Akechi intensely. He thought that he would have gotten used to it by now, but it still seemed to perturb him slightly. Josuke looked at him with poorly hidden contempt.

An arrow head.

"I'll be direct then, I guess. Now won't you tell me why you had this on your person when you confessed on December 31st?"

In truth, Akechi didn't know why. He had just shown up with it in his back pocket. Sure, he cut his hand with it accidentally, but he definitely didn't have it to start with. It just sort of… _materialized_ on his person.

"In all honesty, Higashikata-san, I have no clue why."

Another transparent figure layered itself upon the hooligan cop before disappearing.

"You saw that, now, didn't you?"

Akechi raised an eyebrow.

"A persona?"

Josuke seemed taken aback, as though he hadn't been filled in on the situation.

Rohan Kishibe walked over.

"Josuke, you idiot, I should have just done this from the beginning."

"But that's not how you get information from a suspect legally."

Sae interjected along with Josuke. Rohan shot them both a glare before moving towards the prisoner.

If it wasn't a persona, then what is it?

" _Heaven's Door_!!!"

Akechi felt his arms and torso open up like a book as Rohan began reading off the pages to the group.

"There's nothing about stands at all in here. Aside from his dormant one." Rohan released his ability and walked back over to Josuke.

"There are some blank pages instead of an account of what he did in December though. It's likely that he just doesn't remember anything about that month following the day before Shido's calling card."

The old man stood by with Sae Nijima.

He doubted Sae had any idea what was going on, and the old man just seemed deaf.

"Ah great, so we really have to explain to him everything about stands? Jotaro-san seemed pretty insistent on investigating this persona shit with the guy."

Akechi could sense the rivalry between the two.

"Excuse me, but how exactly is this an interrogation?"

Josuke and Sae turned towards him once more.

"It's not. Under the authority of the Speedwagon Foundation, you'll be working with us under supervision as you help us with something."

So he was being let out? An odd surprise, but not entirely an unwelcome one.

Furthermore, how powerful was this Speedwagon Foundation? How many legal loopholes did they jump through to achieve this?

"Don't get any big ideas. You won't be let within any radius of a phone for a long time without any of us nearby. Sae-san included."

Josuke leaned back.

"You'll just be playing bodyguard for a few people with us."

"How does this relate to personas at all?" Akechi rested his hand on the table as his handcuffs were undone. "If you wanted a bodyguard, couldn't you have gotten someone else entirely?"

Sae seemed mad.

"You're seriously letting him go, after all the things we've gone through because of people like him and Shido?!"

Josuke shrugged. 

"I don't like it either. I'd rather just punch him and be done with it. I'm really not a big fan of murderers, but Jotaro suggested that we should keep an eye on him in case he gets targeted by Passione." Josuke informed her. "And since he seems to be under the assumption that the Phantom Thieves are in trouble. I don't know how he learned their identities. He can't be here right now, but I promise to take care of you. Likewise with Sojiro-san."

"But what if--"

"Sae-san, it's not like he'll have free reign over himself or anything. The SPW will have an eye on him at all times, trust me. Especially considering all of you guys are stationed in Morioh right now."

She relented. Her shoulders seemed to deflate as they lowered. The corners of her lips pointed downwards into a frown.

"Besides, if we wanted another body guard, it'd have to be someone who's already familiar with the Phantom Thieves. Otherwise, we'd have to tell someone else from Morioh about their identities and risk exposing them."

He had a point, but she didn't like it. Who did this Josuke punk think he was? He underestimated her abilities. That aggravated her to no end. She had plenty of experience dealing with men in law enforcement who looked down on her. 

She paused. Maybe she was misunderstanding his intentions.

Despite specifically supporting Sae in the SIU and always lamenting with her about the work environments' treatment of female cops and lawyers, the Special Investigations Unit director had manipulated Sae more so than anyone else sans Akechi.

Who was she to judge this young man--only about 5 years younger than her--for something that she wasn't even sure about when she didn't even know his intentions? He seemed like a nice person. She also thought his haircut was cool, not that she'd admit it. 

Though she still didn't know him all too well.

"Very well. I acknowledge your point."

Josuke smiled. Rohan just sneered at them.

"I promise. We'll all keep you safe."

Sae still had one last question.

"Still why does the Speedwagon Foundation want to protect the Phantom Thieves in the first place?"

Josuke shrugged.

"All I was told was that Koichi and someone else begged Jotaro-san for a favor."

That was it? The multi-billion dollar conglomerate decided to protect them because of a favor?

She smiled slightly. It reminded her of an acquaintance of hers. There was a golden heart to be found in these people, surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading thus far! Please leave any feedback or criticism below!


	13. The World is a Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro Akechi waits patiently for his opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter this time around. Apologies.

\--???/???--???

The tree branch tapped at the elevated glass window of the third floor of the gymnasium. The navy night sky behind it was dimly lit by the lights indoors.

She took off running before she leaped into the air. 

She was going to get out of her slump without the help of anyone else. She couldn’t rely on her upperclassmen for help anymore.

She tucked her knees in and somersaulted forward. 

When she landed her feet on the blue matted floor, her coach ran over to her, smiling and clearly ecstatic at her pupil’s progress.

“That was the best one so far. How about I drive you home tonight?”

Her coach paused as she regained her composure, putting back on her identity as the tough-love sort of mentor she strove to be like.

“You still have room for improvement, but I am proud of you for getting so far. I’ll wait for you to get changed.” 

The tree branch tapped at the elevated glass window again, louder than last time. It must have been windy outside, Kasumi assumed. 

She stared out the window as she reached for her water bottle and her spare clothes, and the gymnast left for the bathroom to change. She couldn’t go home in a sweaty leotard after all. Kasumi was taking her gymnastics now more seriously than ever. Shujin had just barely allowed her to maintain her honors student status after she promised to win first prize at the next tournament. Maruki had vouched for her as well as senpai. She had to make this work.

She regained her attention and shook her head. After all that Metaverse stuff with Akira, she promised to devote herself to gymnastics fully once more as Kasumi Yoshizawa for the sake of her sister’s dream.

She didn’t know why, but, recently, her coach had warmed back up to her.

The gymnasium was covered in darkness. The lights were out.

The tree branch whipped against the elevated glass window again--even harder this time. Cracks began to appear as the fractures on the glass began to form a web. She recoiled at the impact, jumping back in fear as she had returned from the bathroom in her red, black, and gold tracksuit. Her red hair--now put up into a ponytail--was messier than normal, but that was to be expected after a practice session.

It really must be windy out for that to happen. Was there a hurricane going on that she didn’t know about? She didn’t pay much attention to the internet, so she wouldn’t be surprised.

She looked back up at the window as she saw something remove itself from the glass. She couldn’t tell what it was in the darkness of the night. Where was coach? She assumed that her mentor would wait for her, but she had apparently left and turned off the lights. 

She stumbled her way through the dark as she went for the light switch. 

Light covered the room once more. Examining the room, she searched for her phone and called her dad, telling him that she was going home soon.

She looked back up at the tree branch only to notice how the previously shattered glass window had presumably fixed itself. Was she going crazy? She could have sworn she heard the sound of broken glass. Was someone stalking her?

The lights turned off once more. She flicked the light switch several times to no avail. 

Someone had cut the power.

“AHHHHHHHH!!!” 

Someone screamed. Kasumi was getting scared. What if someone was really stalking her?

That was a ridiculous thought, right?!

“Coach…? Where are you?! I’m scared!” She squeaked out, only to receive nothing in reply.

She called out her name again.

Still nothing.

Her heartbeat was increasing as she tightened her grip onto the phone. She turned on the flashlight function and held it out in front of her to slightly illuminate her surroundings. Now on the first floor, she left through the front doors of the gym and moved into the parking lot. 

There was no wind whatsoever. The air around her was deadly still as her breath became visible in the cold outdoors. She felt the asphalt against her shoes. Her phone had very little battery left.

Kasumi's breathing grew shorter and shorter as she desperately looked around. Maybe her coach had left already? A family emergency?

But her car was still here.

“Coach? This isn’t funny! Where are you?!”

She was alone and scared. She couldn’t see anything in the lighting, the phone flashlight was pathetic in comparison to the streetlamps a few dozen yards away. Trembling either because of the cold or her fear, Kasumi slowly walked through the parking lot towards the car and put her phone away to save battery. She had turned it off until she accidentally kicked something warm and soft. She was only a few feet in front of her coach’s car. She was half-tempted to dash back into the closed gymnasium. The phone in her pocket was quickly brought back up to view whatever she just kicked with her foot. Her lungs inhaled deeply as she mustered the courage to turn on the flashlight.

Her heartbeat, which had calmed down previously, now skyrocketed back up.

On the ground, her coach laid in stasis against the asphalt. Her tracksuit was torn up, as though someone was looking for something on her. Her eyes were lifeless and devoid of hope despite her slow pulse. The ends of her tracksuit and her shirt were singed black. Kasumi’s eyes were wide. She gulped. 

The light suddenly blinded her as the car a few yards from her turned on. She blocked the beams as she brought her hands in front of her face.

For a split second, she saw the face of the man in her mentor’s car. He had a black mustache and goatee, which was shaped into a star. His hair was slicked back and oily. The glasses on his head contrasted his slender face; they were large and painted gray. The lenses were dark.  
As the car jolted forward with its engine rumbling towards her, images that she was both equally familiar and unfamiliar with appeared in her mind. Someone identical to her had pushed her away from an oncoming truck. Before she had the time to process this, it crashed into her side.

. . . 

The silence afterwards was deafening.

The man got out from the car and inspected his handiwork. He was satisfied with it, but for good measure, he checked her phone to confirm her identity.

No battery. _Tch._

He wasn’t done yet. Most of the targets had inexplicably moved to Morioh, much to his annoyance. He checked back at his list and crossed off “Sumire Yoshizawa.”

The next one below it read “Goro Akechi.”

It was easier to start with the brats allegedly closest to those Phantom Thieves before he got to the adults. 

Tiramisu Zeppeli left for Morioh.

\--01 / 08--Early Morning

Under surveillance by a short young man no older than him, Akechi sipped on Tonio Trussardi’s coffee as the fellow customers shot him dirty looks. Akechi was familiar with them. He had taken notes on them during his investigation of Akira. One of them he interacted with every so often.

Sadayo Kawakami: teacher-turned-maid-into-teacher. She shot him a particularly disdainful yet pitying look after she was filled in on his role with the death of Shujin’s principal and the rest of the mental shutdowns.

At the moment, however, she appeared to be attempting to strike up a conversation with Rohan, who was promptly ignoring her.

That was fair, he supposed. He still despised the looks of pity though.

Takuto Maruki: Shujin part-time counselor and full-time cognitive psientist. The man seemed rather ambivalent towards him. However, Akechi suspected some suppressed resentment from the man for Akechi’s involvement with Shido indirectly ruining Maruki’s research.

Similarily, he appeared to be striking up a conversation with Josuke Higashikata about something. The only thing he heard from the conversation was something about a serial killer. An odd topic for the gentle man to talk about, but it wasn't impossible.

His research would have been ruined by Shido anyways. 

Sojiro Sakura: owner of Leblanc, caretaker for Akira, and associate to the late Wakaba Isshiki. Akechi received an especially spiteful glare from the man. It honestly disturbed him in comparison to the man’s patient demeanor with Akechi when he was at Leblanc.

The older man had done nothing but give him that awful look.

He really didn’t have any friends or allies here. This punishment is fate, he reckoned. 

That wasn’t completely true. He did make one friend in Morioh, but Akechi fervently refused their offer.

Some moron with scars across his face had probed him both about girls and “how to become famous.” For Akechi, who only cared about these things as it related to his relationships on a superficial level, he was getting increasingly annoyed with the vulgar ape.

He seemed like Ryuji, but somehow even more of a dunce. 

However, he didn’t seem to care about Akechi’s insults and dismissals, much to the young man’s annoyance. The young man seemed to just take them as inoffensive jests. They didn’t even know each other too well, and this delinquent was acting like they were best buds!

Deciding to distract himself, Akechi pulled out this week’s copy of the Tokyo Newspaper. He didn’t have the luxury of a phone thanks to the conditions place upon him for this job. 

Only for him to be taken aback with emotions that Akechi was all too familiar with. Sorrow and rage. Outside of Akira, he associated little value towards the other Phantom Thieves or his friends. All except for one, who made for particularly interesting discussion with. Kasumi Yoshizawa. Putting aside the fact that she was most likely a delusioned Sumire Yoshizawa, he admittedly had an engaging discussion with her a few months back. They weren’t friends, but they were associates. He knew her father after all from the TV shows he was interviewed on frequently.

He read the newspaper again to be sure. Apparently, she had denied the Speedwagon Foundation’s protection in favor of her tournament coming up. A really dumb move of her in his opinion.

And now she was gone.

According to the article, she had been caught in a car crash and found with odd scorch marks across her body. Akechi doubted it though. The cause of death was far too suspicious, given that it was the same way her sister died. He doubted it was unintentional.

Something inside Goro Akechi awakened from it’s long slumber. Not the personal sense of justice that fueled his sadistic vendetta against Shido, but instead a genuine, selfless one.

He was enraged all the same, but he couldn’t recognize why. Regardless of his feelings, he still felt caged. He couldn’t do anything about it. Even if he wasn’t in a prison anymore.

At least, he couldn’t do anything about it _yet_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was equally sad and fun to write for me. I tried to invoke the horror of the earlier Jojo parts this chapter, and I really hope it worked. Thank you for reading thus far! I'll be returning to college soon as a transferring sophomore in a few days, so I'll try to get one last chapter done before that. Expect a slower release of chapters in the future though. I won't abandon this though. I've already committed myself to it.


	14. Sent to Drain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flame.  
> And what do I get, for my pain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's been awhile.

Sipping on tea as he looked out on to a crowd of on goers, Akechi lost himself in thought. 

He didn't know why they assigned him an old man as a body guard for today. Let alone an American who was basically deaf.

He sipped on in silence. The old man, who apparently was the real estate mogul Joseph Joestar, seemed like he'd be no help in a fight. Although he was a giant of a man, he seemed frail and hunched over in his redish brown overcoat; the passage of time had clearly not been nice to this man. Oddly enough, however, this American had been the only person thus far--aside from the idiot with the scars--to not glare at him. 

Not that Akechi cared either way. He was just worried that when Sumire's murderer will attack him, the old man might get caught in the crossfire. It had been a day since her passing. Dr. Maruki seemed especially dismayed about it.

Akechi wondered how the Phantom Thieves will react to the news. Will they be cast into despair or will they seek closure--like himself? 

Sure, he had been fine dying for that group of idiots back in Shido's palace, but, to be frank, he deserved to die. He took out the trash of society; the palaces of those he shut down were fresh in his mind and convinced him that he needed to be the one to end their influence on society. 

He recalled the first job he had taken for Shido: Wakaba Isshiki. 

As much as that old man Sojiro and Futaba claimed otherwise, she was as equally corrupt as the rest of the people he killed. It was just a sad truth.

Her palace was probably the one of the strangest out of all the ones he invaded.

_Nuclear silo._

Wakaba Isshiki was fully aware of the destruction and mayhem that the logical conclusion of her research would bring. She was also equally aware of how much money and recognition she would receive if it was successful.

Why else would she have willingly joined Shido?

It was a bit hypocritical, as he was using the Metaverse himself to kill others, but the thought of actually using the Metaverse on a global scale with military involvement actually _disturbed_ Akechi. He had only pretended to go along with it to please Shido, but he fully intended on enacting mental shutdowns on everyone who sought that military power.

In many cases, Shido had ordered him to assassinate certain targets, but he eventually began enacting mental shutdowns in people unassociated with Shido's conspiracy who were just equally unrepentant and unforgivable. 

He was willing to become a killer if it meant enacting his justice on those who deserved it. His father was at the forefront of that.

So for him to kill so many of his own accord, he realized from the beginning that one day he will need to be put down too.

He knew that much. He was fine with killing the Phantom Thieves for Shido originally because his own desire for revenge--his justice--necessitated sacrifices then. 

Akechi knew he was a bad person. If anything, some loud part of himself actively wanted to cause more bloodshed.

Akechi also knew that Sumire Yoshizawa--based on his brief interactions with her in the past--wasn't.

She was an innocent. Just like _her_.

And all he had to do was wait for the murderer to bring themselves to him. 

Still, something was off. Ever since New Year's, his body had begun growing colder and colder. His skin was far more sensitive to sunlight than ever. He couldn't stop feeling so... _thirsty_ for lack of a better word.

He looked over to the man next to him. The old man had fallen asleep.

Akechi decided to go ahead and go get some fresh air, leaving a note for the senile American explaining that he'll be on the roof of the apartment reading his novel, _Frankenstein_. Underneath some shade, of course.

As he climbed the stairs, a figure of a large man appeared and disappeared. His head hurt, and he suddenly became dizzy. Grabbing a handrail with his right hand, he held the side of his head with his left. He dropped the book but failed to realize he had.

Now out on the stone roof of the building, he sat down next to the air conditioning unit near the exit.

Only for someone's arm to pass through the stone wall and almost grab his head.

_He's here._

Akechi jumped forward last second. His eyes narrowed.

It was like if someone had _melted_ a hole into the wall.

"Who are you?" Akechi's voice was rasp and stern. 

The metal door began to melt as well, revealing the attacker behind it. 

He wore a checkered top hat that seemed unfit for the modern age. The blue vest and pink tie were clashing too. His rolled up white sleeves had metal studs across them. His pants and shoes were a simple black.

The mustached man smiled.

"My name is Tiramisu Zeppeli. It's great to meet you."

He pulled out a list from his back pocket.

"And you're Goro Akechi."

The man darted at his with absurd speed and strength like nothing Akechi had ever seen before.

" _KASHMIR_!" Tiramisu screamed as his body began to glow bright yellowish orange.

His stand was a series of tubes and wires that connected to the pressure points all around his body.

\--???/???--???

He took on his late mother's maiden name after his father abandoned him when he was young. An orphan, he never really knew any of his family members except through the stories of others. 

As a young boy, the unwarranted praise and pride caused him to attach his sense of identity to fictionalized, romantic versions of them and not who they really were as individuals. He always got coddled by older Naples citizens as they recall stories of his predecessors. Their stories about how William was a great scholar and how Caesar was a great warrior placed great expectations on him.

Too much for his young heart when he left the orphanage to become a great scholar and to eventually learn hamon. 

This motivation led him to pursue academics as a major archeologist, and he obsessively poured many hours into studying, going as far as to isolate himself from all his former friends and to resolve himself to never make personal relationships again.

He believed that by doing so, he could commit himself to his academics and properly follow his ancestors' footsteps. 

So when he inevitably fell short, it was devastating. For the first time in eighty years, he was the first Zeppeli that had no capacity to learn hamon. 

He spiraled into a deep depression and gradually dropped his studying altogether. Several years later, he had become homeless and resorted to criminal activities to survive. Seeing no value in his own life, he began to consider suicide when he fell deeper into the criminal underworld and became a pimp for various prostitutes in Naples. However, when a gangster approached him and promised him supernatural power in exchange for his loyalty, he felt alive again. Assigning all the dirty jobs to his men, he held some sort of satisfaction with himself.

Finally, he was living up to his name.

He found a new reason to live. He poured himself more into Passione, eventually running its human trafficking branch and constantly fighting for territory from other gangs along the way.

\--???/???--???

Akechi's stand had fully awoken.

 _Smashing Pumpkins_ allowed for him to send his body to freezing levels, fire highly pressurized fluid from his eyes, and drain the lives of others to heal himself.

He didn't know how he came to know this. It just happened naturally. Much like when he learned about the Metaverse, the information poured into his mind. 

Firing the highly pressurized fluid from his eyes, Akechi began his onslaught on Tiramisu. No more words needed to be exchanged. Both knew that this was for keeps.

Within about 2 meters of Tiramisu, Akechi could feel the heat radiate off the man. Sparks flew across his body with an ethereal glow. The ex-prince detective had already begun devising a means of countering this in his head though. 

If Tiramisu's stand created heat to melt practically anything, then it's reasonable to say that he'd have trouble melting sub-zero temperatures, right? 

As he approached, Tiramisu began to breathe in deeply as he seemed to prepare for something. His position shifted into something akin to a martial arts stance, and the yellowish red glow intensified from his stand _KASHMIR_. The ground beneath him cracked as he too dashed before Akechi at blistering speeds, his hand extended forwards to grab the teenager murderer's face.

" _KASHMIR OVERDRIVE_."

It wasn't hamon, but he at least wanted to pay his respects to his predecessors.

However, the brat's face did not melt.

His arm had been frozen on the spot. The chestnut-haired boy instead laughed.

He too chose that time to speak up.

"You're a fool if you think you can beat me with just brute strength." Akechi paused. "You've failed to notice how utterly outmatched you are here."

"What!?" 

Just then, Tiramisu had felt something snap. He couldn't feel his arm. 

He looked down.

The frozen half of his forearm had been snapped off. 

Instinctually jumping back, he melted the ice on the rest his forearm. Then, using his stand, he cauterized the wound. Writhing in agony, the man screamed in pain before charging back at the kid.

Akechi, surprised that the man could put up with the agony and fight, had mistakenly lowered his guard. 

As he summoned his black spectre of a stand _Smashing Pumpkins_ just a moment too late, Akechi could feel all the excrutating details in the moment the man's left hand passed through his right arm.

" _WRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY_!!!!"

Something unnaturally had begun to possess Akechi. He didn't know why he screamed like that. One thing was for certain though. He felt absolutely fantastic.

The Zeppeli had heard the stories. Undead men wrecking havoc across Europe. William dying to them. The death of some nobleman. A boat. All of it was very familiar to Tiramisu Zeppeli.

So to see something similar to it happen right in front of him made him feel as though he was born to bear witness to this.

If this was his destiny, he'd accept it wholeheartedly.

As his arm dropped to the ground, Akechi lunged forwards at the man's neck, plunging his fingers into the side. 

Veins shot out from the wound and into the detached arm, pulling it back into place as Akechi drained the life out of Tiramisu, his hand pulsating with the man's blood.

He tested the reattched arm, laughing and flexing the muscles in his previously detached hand.

"This stand power is really something else." He clawed at the flesh as the pain subsided.

And yet the man vainly refused to give up. How utterly **useless.**

Red bits and pieces of the gangster were being clawed out from his side as his blood drained, and yet, he had yet to admit defeat.

The criminal, however, deciding to lay his life on the line, channeled _KASHMIR_ through his leg one final time and kicked upwards.

Only for it to stop short as his brain froze. The air crackling as his mind ceased all function.

Akechi, now fully healed and finished with his meal, turned away from the corpse of Sumire's killer.

Now walking towards the entrance to the stairwell, he stood atop it as Josuke Higashikata looked up at him from the bottom.

He figured that the old man must have heard the commotion and called the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was fun. Thank you for reading so far. It's a slower pace for updates, but I hope you still are enjoying.


	15. Lucifer's Call and Dead Man's Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile, I know. But at least now we're finally getting to some of the more strange stuff I've got planned.

\--01 / 08-- Early Morning

They had gotten on the plane at around noon. With the majority of them having fallen asleep through the flight, Akira had mustered neither the will nor the time to talk to Morgana, especially not just after he just killed someone. Makoto seemed lost in thought in comparison, having been ruminating on Akira's confession to her for hours. The brunette got flustered by just his presence.

Thankfully, he appreciated the time he had to just _think_.

He stared down at the cup in front of him. The fizzy drink bubbled and hissed at him.

He knew he shouldn't have done it. He knew he shouldn't do it, but he did it anyways. 

And it hurt. There was a dry lump in the back of his throat that he couldn't get rid of, no matter how much water or soda he drank. A deep pit found itself at the bottom of his stomach as though he had swallowed a weight, and it wouldn't disappear. The dark bags under his eyes stung. His black hair covered his sight. He just simply wanted to find out what information they needed from Polnareff's palace and go home.

Did the others feel like this too? Ryuji had distanced himself quite a bit and hadn't participated in any of their group conversations as nearly as often as he used to. Haru too. And Akira knew that they couldn't afford to hesitate in a fight because they didn't want to kill someone. He knew their opponents wouldn't show them the same kindness.

Morgana was the only one who seemed to be operating as normal, and it frightened Akira. It was a very tempting proposal: to dehumanize their enemies. But he just couldn't do it. He couldn’t.

It made him sick to his stomach. After everything from this year, he knew that all life was precious--even the lives of palace rulers.

Even the worst types of people had a relative, a lover, a friend, or someone waiting for them back home. He may hate Kamoshida, but he didn't hate Kamoshida's relatives. He may have disliked Mr. Okumura, but he was great friends with Haru. 

Someone can still be undoubtedly evil but still have people who loved them. People who are likely waiting for that person to return from this dark phase in their lives and repent. 

So he couldn't just not acknowledge that their enemies were human. Not when he knew that by killing them, he'd be hurting others uninvolved in this conflict. 

_All life is precious?_

A low, foreign voice invaded his mind. He knew not of its origins, and it alarmed him. Not because it was particularly threatening, but because it soothed his soul. It was a serenade that calmed his thoughts with only four words.

_Is that what you tell yourself just for peace of mind? To pretend that you're a good person?_

No, that wasn't right. He knew that everyone had someone who lov--

_You lie to yourself._

It wasn't a lie.

_But it was, indeed. You know it._

Akira remained silent in his own thoughts.

_Why else would you make these conflicting arguments? That you can't hesitate when in a fight to the death? That you shouldn't feel regret for killing someone? But you must also not dehumanize them? That you must also value the lives of your enemies as you end them? This is inherently a contradiction._

Akira willed the voice to stop as his head began to throb. He rubbed his temples, but the pain just seemed to compound.

_You should know how you felt when you snapped your fingers like that. Did the thought of that woman having a family even pass your mind as you ended her life?_

No, it hadn't.

_Did you not feel a sense of euphoria as you were about to end her? Did you not feel the dark determination that you know you have?_

_Do you not acknowledge that some part of you enjoys hurting others? That you enjoy the action and the fights?_

Akira paused. That was different. It was in self-defense.

_No, it wasn't._

_She was already incapacitated on the ground. You wanted to hurt her because she threatened your friends._

_So you killed her. It was as simple as that._

Akira's migraine was excruciating now. He wanted to refuse, but he couldn't.

_You disassociate yourself from your nigh-sadistic behavior in the Metaverse, but are you really all too different from Joker?_

Akira recoiled as the lump in his throat grew three times its size. His head felt like it was about to split apart as his vision blurred and darkened.

_Then again, it's a lot easier to show your true self when you wear a mask, right?_

_You love this._

Akira questioned who the voice was. The world around him began to melt and bubble. 

Laughter and chanting played in the background as though it was being played on an old, corrupted radio. The words are covered in distortion.

A cold sweat trickled down his forehead as he unbuckled himself from his chair.

The sky was beginning to vanish as the sun became a bright smear across the now star lit atmosphere.

The laughter and chanting grew louder as the words became more decipherabled from the background radio static. However, they are still a mystery to Akira.

Akira rushed over to the sleeping figures of his friends, only for them not to respond. His breathing grew short as their skin peeled from their bodies, their flesh melting into nothingness.

Time seemed to slow down, speed up, and warp as the laughter and chanting ruptured his eardrums. He could not hear anymore as warm liquid spilled from his ears.

Despite not hearing anything from his surroundings, the words become crystal clear to Akira.

And yet he cannot recognize them.

Terrified, he toppled over to Makoto and begged her to respond.

Only for her to turn her head towards him and reveal an unfamiliar face. Devoid of all facial features except for a pair of lips.

Its mouth opened.

_Who are you?_

Jolting awake, Akira spasmed in his seat as he tried to catch his breathe.

When did he fall asleep?

Akira's thoughts once again went silent. He stared outside the plane window.

He did not know when she had, but Makoto now laid asleep as well. The ground grew closer and closer to the plane.

Just how much time did he spend asleep?

As the plane landed, the others soon began to awaken, and the voice finally disappeared.

Despite the sunny weather outside, it felt oddly cold. 

Makoto was the first to speak up.

"Hey Akira, are you okay?" asked Makoto as she noticed the sulking expression on his face. 

"Yeah," Joker said, "I'm doing fine."

\--???/???--???

It had been twelve years since the last time he encountered a truly dangerous stand user.

By extension, it had also been twelve years since he had been mauled by that dog.

After that "fight" and as he recovered, he broke the news to his brother: he'd begin working as a traveling fortune teller. Using his ability, he'd find ways to help others with his stand. He wanted to do some good in the world for once. He was honestly sick of being so shy and so selfish.

His brother took the news poorly, but the man was ultimately proud of his younger brother. The child who used to hid under boxes near strangers had begun his journey to truly become a man.

Not everyone appreciated his work, however, there had been several people who beat him up after he told them of a future misfortune. He nonetheless managed to save many lives of those who listened to him. In several cases, he had prevented the deaths of others either by creating fake corpses or some other method. As long as he could recreate the events that _THOTH_ foretold, he could prevent tragedy.

However, the one tragedy he failed to avoid was his own.

Boingo, for the first time in twelve years, had returned to Egypt. Specifically, he returned to his hometown, Cairo.

In order to pay his respects to his late brother and attend his funeral.

Apparently, his bro had gotten mugged by someone who had killed him in the insuing fight. His brother had been chopped in half by what looked like a giant pair of teeth. 

It must have been another stand user.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he attempted to remain strong. He wanted to show his brother that he could survive on his own.

And yet, the tears came and overwhelmed him. 

Several days passed before Boingo decided he needed to get back to work. This time with the memory of his bro motivating him to try and help even more. As he began to leave, he opened up _THOTH_ once more out of curiosity. He didn’t know why he did it.

The next pages began to color themselves as images appeared in his manga.

He promptly dropped the book out of shock.

It had been twelve years since then. It had been twelve years since he last saw anyone from that group aside from his late brother.

Sure enough, his manga showed him it all the same. 

There was a caricature of a group of Japanese teenagers. 

The one at the forefront of the group had voluminous jet-black hair that hung in front of his glasses. The glasses were broken in several places, and the eyes behind them were a crimson color. His nose was abnormally protruding, and his chin was so sharp it was almost a full on triangle. His mouth curved into a disturbing smile, and the rest of body was adorned a checkered black and red outfit.

The others followed similar patterns with a crippled blond sharing the same smile only with sharpened teeth. 

Nonetheless, that wasn't what worried him.

What worried him were the familiar caricatures of a blonde man dressed in a cowboy outfit, a man covered in yellow goop, and a scantily clad woman. All three of them seemed to be organizing themselves to attack the teens one at a time.

But why? Why was Hol Horse getting back into his mercenary work? Didn't he retire after that "fight" twelve years ago?

He shut the book.

As he left the cold, arid land, he prayed for their safety.

\--???/???--???

Diavolo was pissed. With the betrayal of la squadra and not wanting to rely on his elite guard, he had been forced to order the human trafficking division to dispose of the Phantom Thieves for him. 

However, they too failed, and for some reason, the thieves had left for Egypt.

Thankfully, he still knew of some mercenaries there.

Still, the group of teenagers were becoming a prominent thorn in his side, and he had his daughter to worry about too.

He ran his fingers through his hair and came to a decision.

Very well. If this team were to fail, he came up with a contingency plan. Although it'd bring more unwanted attention to Passione, it'd almost guarantee his victory.

If the Phantom Thieves were attempting to divulge his identity, he'd repay them back in kind before finishing them off.

\--01 / 08-- Afternoon

Akira had ordered several kebabs for the team as they reached their luxury hotel. Yusuke had devoured them intensely as he drew their surroundings with incredible fervor.

It was extravagant, and Egypt gave off a completely different vibe from Italy.

As the others went inside to try and guess Polnareff's key words, Yusuke stayed outside to continue his artwork.

With each stroke of the brush, he seemed to come across a new revelation as he contemplated the events of the last few days.

Will he too have to kill someone?

Will he have to put someone down to survive?

Could he?

Too lost in his thoughts, Yusuke failed to notice the man behind him. The man had long blonde hair that flowed behind him as he inspected Yusuke's canvas. He tilted his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. Thankfully, he had spent some portion of the last few years learning Japanese.

"Hey kid, what are you working on? It looks good."

Yusuke turned around, and he had an almost knowing expression on his face.

"Ah thank you. Excuse me, but can you tell me the main aspects of it that you appreciate?"

The man lifted his arm and summoned his stand.

"It's good so far, but it just needs one last touch."

He pulled the trigger and fired at Yusuke, who instinctually summoned his stand to deflect the bullet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assuming I don't do anything with this tomorrow, it's likely going to be a while till the next time I update. I'm glad I got this out though finally. It's been brewing for a while.
> 
> I'll likely be editing this work in the meantime. But at least there's no more OCs for now in case you guys disliked it.
> 
> I have some ideas for enemy stand users in case I decide to have a second wave for the PTs. I really enjoyed how self-contained they were and how they still managed to have a significant influence on our protagonists when they only appear for a chapter or two. I also had fun in researching their music references so that they were all connected to one another in some fashion.
> 
> Everyone so far has been facing some aspect of their past or of another's past in some way or form. The whole Passione human trafficking branch are meant to basically be mirrors to other characters in the story so far. Take Tagliatelle for example. The reason why Makoto was able to get inside her head was because Tagliatelle acts as a parallel to Sae's old toxic way of thinking as well as various other characters from both Jojo and Persona. The other OCs also follow this motif as well. Tagliatelle and Ragu share a darkened version of the relationship between Fugo and Narancia, and this is carried over both to the Italian dishes they're named after and their stand names through Slim Shady admitting that he was inspired by Beastie Boys to a degree and his album "Kamikaze" sharing the exact same cover art as the Beastie Boys' album "Licensed to Ill" of a jet plane. All the OC stand names have some relation to one another what with Eminem's and the Beastie Boys' sampling of Led Zeppelin, Eminem's song "Stan" that features Elton John, and more. The only real odd man out is Asternersi, but he's considered a weirdo by everyone else in the group.
> 
> I also enjoy writing Akira and the other PTs this time around. They're often flanderized in some manner, and while intend on having their core personalities remain constant, people behave in unexpected ways depending on their environment and their actions. Akira's personality is completely original though and more so based on how he swaps personalities in the Metaverse and reality. He wants to be something he's not. Someone who does this as apparently as him likely has some sort of toxic mindset or is just overly obsessive regarding a TV show or anime they like.
> 
> Thank you for reading this so far! I hope you guys are doing well!


	16. Duel Between Emperors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past repeats itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. We're nearing the final stretch here, I swear.
> 
> EDIT: I am really unsatisfied with the state I left the last few chapters in, so I'll likely be going back and retroactively fixing them. I apologize as I initially published them early as to maintain a concrete schedule, but college has really ramped up. I haven't really had the time to fine tune them beforehand. I hate making excuses, so I'm just as frustrated with myself as I imagine you are with me.

Pain exploded from Yusuke's hand as his stand instinctively attempted to block Hol Horse's bullet when he fell to the ground. The paint and canvas he was using was painted crimson as he winced in agony. His blue hair fell in front of his face, concealing his agonized grimace from the cowboy. His eyes shut as he grasped at his right wrist with his left.

"Oh dang, my bad. I was aiming for ya head there." The Southern baritone of the massive American mocked the teenage samurai.

"You can call me Hol Horse by the way."

His breathing became sporadic as he willed himself to open his eyes. He felt the cold red liquid run down his arm, staining his white shirt too. His hand trembled as he repressed his desire to scream. 

A gaping hole.

His right palm was missing a sizeable chunk from the center.

"No worries, I suppose. With enough time and enough physical therapy, you can probably get back to painting. If you survive I mean. Nothing against you though; a job's just a job, ya know?"

Recognizing his need to escape and glaring at the older stand user, Yusuke quickly put his hands together at an angle and ran from his blond enemy. 

" _Rainbow in the Dark _!"__

__His pink and blue stand hovered behind the teen as he lunged away from Hol Horse. The brick street was oddly empty._ _

__Hol Horse fired off more shots only for them to miss their mark when they hit the corner of a building Yusuke had passed. As Hol Horse followed, he felt a familiar sting in his right leg and struggled to catch his balance._ _

__What was that?_ _

__Looking down, Hol Horse's leg had two holes as bullets landed into same spots of the brick building's corner once more._ _

__Was this that kid's stand?_ _

__The man tore off part of his tan shirt to wrap around his leg in order to stop the bleeding, and his lips tightened to a thin line as he pushed onwards despite the injury._ _

__A veteran of many stand battles, his mind went into overdrive as he attempted to derive the Japanese kid's ability._ _

__1\. Yusuke had activated his stand right before he left out of sight._ _

__2\. He fired two bullets that had missed the boy and instead pierced the wall of a nearby building._ _

__3\. He ran to follow his target, only for two bullets to hit clean through his leg and hit the same spots as the bullets he fired earlier._ _

__Several options went through his head._ _

__The most likely being that Yusuke Kitagawa could reverse or reset time on specific objects.  
A cold shiver ran through Hol Horse's spine. Anything but time based abilities, just anything. He'll take anything else._ _

__Even if it wasn't time based, any other possible option seemed difficult to deal with._ _

__Nonetheless, he ran after him gun in hand before noticing something quickly rocketing at him._ _

__Ducking his head, Hol Horse felt the wind pass from over above him as some object flew above his back. Standing up, he looked back to examine the projectile._ _

__Only for him to feel something stab his gut as he toppled over on the ground. Immediately, he registered the pain with a grunt as he toppled over to his side. Holding himself up with his left hand, he examined his wounds._ _

__Several iron nails had lodged themselves into his stomach as he keeled over and yelled expletives in response._ _

__"Fucking--"_ _

__He was right. Dammit._ _

__"For as someone as undignified as you, you ought to handle pain a bit better."_ _

__Immediately, Hol Horse fired into the air, only for the nails to disappear from his torso and reappear in front of him._ _

__Again, too late to dodge, the nails fired into his pectorals as he redirected his earlier bullets in the direction of Yusuke's voice and the likely origin point of the nails._ _

__He heard the bullets lodge themselves in flesh._ _

__Near the next right turn, he could see crimson pool onto the ground as he tore off some fabric from his left pant leg and tightly wrapped it around the holes in his gut to prevent further bleeding. It wasn't the worst wound he had gotten from a stand fight afterall. He can handle this, he reassured himself._ _

__He turned the corner and fired his gun once more in the direction of his earlier mark._ _

__That was not Yusuke._ _

__That was Yusuke's hand._ _

__Detached from his body._ _

__Keeling over, the bluenette held his stump up while suppressing a scream. Glaring at Hol Horse, he bit his lip. "If it's all okay with you, I'd rather not spend my time here tormenting or being tormented by a middle-aged man."_ _

__"Hey, I've only gotten better with age!"_ _

Yusuke's eyes shot daggers at him and extended his arms forwards. His remaining hand, now at a right angle, appeared as though it was framing a rectangular image. His cellphone was placed nearby, and Yusuke did a quick glance at the hotel before redirecting his attention back at Hol Horse. 

Hol Horse immediately dived to the right before his bullets from earlier ago missed him by a hair. 

"For your first stand fight, you have a surprisingly good grasp on your ability. I recommend doing more trap related stuff with a partner in the future. Like with those nails there. In the hypothetical where you don't die here." 

This man was acting weird. Although he was after his life, this westerner was _mentoring_ him. Why? 

"Why are you telling me--" Yusuke was quickly interrupted. 

"You could have finished this fight earlier had you just kept repeating those moments though with the bullets. You hesitated though. That's a real bad habit." 

Yusuke opened his mouth only for Hol Horse to turn _Emperor_ back towards him.

__

__

__"When you fight someone to death, you need to harden your heart and your resolve. This is a matter of respect and common courtesy. Otherwise, you disgrace your opponent."_ _

__Hol Horse readied his grip on his gun. Yusuke readied his remaining hand._ _

__"Now draw!"_ _

__Yusuke's attention went back to the upper floors of their hotel as he twisted his whole body in the direction of the sound of shattering glass. Five bullets pierced into his body. One into his right knee. One into his right quadriceps. One into his gut. One into his right elbow._ _

__And one into his head._ _

__

__\--???/???--???_ _

__Ryuji was already tear-inducingly frustrated at his newfound inability to do the simplest of tasks. Ever since he lost his legs, he's been increasingly more and more useless. And the others know it. They definitely think he's worthless now. Why wouldn't they?_ _

__Having been accidentally separated from his friends, Ryuji had found himself struggling to climb up the set of stairs in front of him as he pulled himself up using only his arm strength._ _

__Twice had he accidentally fallen._ _

__"Excuse me, sir, do you need some help?"_ _

__Instinctively angry, he turned back towards the polite hotel clerk with vitriol in his eyes._ _

__The clerk winced backwards before Ryuji's expression softened._ _

__"Yeah, man. Thanks. I'd really appreciate the help." Ryuji said begrudgingly. This guy didn't deserve to have to deal with some angry cripple's complaints. He was probably just trying to get by._ _

__As the man guided Ryuji back to his wheelchair, the blond could do nothing but stay silent._ _

__The red uniformed clerk offered to push Ryuji to his room to which Ryuji agreed._ _

__As he was rolled into the elevator, the clerk had a seemingly benevolent expression on his face, yet something was off._ _

__For some reason, the man's chin gleamed like metal as the elevator ascended._ _

__His expression twisted into a smile, and it grew wider and wider, until the sides of his mouth clearly expanded beyond their normal limits._ _

__Ryuji looked up in terror as the hotel clerk exploded in an arrangement of yellow goop._ _

__From beneath the goop, a bulky young man with wires around his chin gave him a sadistic look._ _

Ryuji summoned his stand. _Rebel Yell_ tore open the elevator doors before throwing Ryuji onto whatever floor they were on and warping the metal back into place before the yellow goop could launch itself back at him. 

__His foot, squeezed by the metal doors, shattered into a million pieces. However, Ryuji failed to notice._ _

__His wheelchair ruined, Ryuji crawled over to the window of this floor as he waited for the stand user._ _

__He pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Something he saw caused him to grin._ _

"My name is Rubber Soul by the way. Also, my stand is named _Yellow Temperance_." 

__"You think I care, asshole?"_ _

__Rubber Soul grinned at that._ _

The room light flickered for a second as electricity crackled visibily. _Rebel Yell_ threw a punch only for the yellow goop to absorb its hand and negate the voltage. 

__His hand felt like he had plunged it in acid, stinging everywhere as the stand disappeared._ _

__"I'm telling you man, my stand is invulnerable. You should ask that cat you guys had earlier."_ _

__Ryuji's blood froze._ _

__"What?"_ _

__"My stand grows whenever it absorbs any organic material. I'll leave it at that."_ _

__Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!_ _

__This ain't good._ _

__Morgana was likely dead because of this dick. FUCK!_ _

_Rebel Yell_ shattered the window behind him. 

__"What are you doing?"_ _

__Ryuji, using his upper body strength, threw himself out the window._ _

__Rubber Soul's eyes went wide before he broke down. Small tears appeared in the corner of his eyes as his gut hurt from laughing._ _

__"Wow, holy shit!"_ _

Deciding to digest the body, he summoned _Yellow Temperance_ at his feet to cushion his fall as he chuckled. 

__Only for him to see no blonde corpses at the bottom._ _

__"HEY ASSHOLE!"_ _

__From above, the obscene boy's voice rang out to grab Rubber Soul's attention. A massive shit-eating grin emerged on his face as he grabbed Rubber Soul's waist, intending to piledrive the man headfirst into the concrete road from a 12 floor fall._ _

__"How?! That's impossible! You jumped far before me!"_ _

__Ryuji directed his eyes towards two figures in the ground: Hol Horse and Yusuke Kitagawa._ _

Writhing uselessly to escape, he directed _Yellow Temperance_ to attach itself onto Ryuji's face, only for _Rebel Yell_ to chuck them like a spear towards the ground to increase their velocity. 

"You don't have to do this! I can use _Yellow Temperance_ to cushion both of our falls if you promise to not kill me!" 

__Ryuji only bubbled and gurgled in response as his grip tightened._ _

__Rubber Soul closed his eyes for the last time as he heard several bullets go off right before he hit the ground._ _

__

__\--???/???--???_ _

__Rubber Soul's head splattered on the ground as Ryuji used the body to cushion his fall as much as possible. His legs bent and broke in all the wrong directions, yet he felt nothing._ _

__Yusuke, collapsed on the ground, had blood pouring out from him fast as Ryuji brought his attention to Hol Horse, who's jaw had yet to close after witnessing his partner's brutal execution._ _

__Ryuji glared at him as Hol Horse ran his hand through his hair._ _

__"I recommend you find a healer stand or a doctor as quickly as possible."_ _

__Ryuji recoiled in confusion, lifting an eyebrow as Hol Horse turned away from the two teenagers. He opened his mouth. His face was horrifying. The boy's skin was a bright red._ _

__"Wait, where are you--"_ _

__Hol Horse sprinted in the opposite direction. Now with his partner out of commission, he stuck true to his belief about being no. 2 rather than no. 1 and retreated. He wasn't going to deal with those psychos. Not even Jotaro, for all his ruthlessness, had killed his opponents so nonchalantly all those years ago. Although, Polnareff was a different story though._ _

__Still, who had these kids fought that taught them to be this blood thirsty? Why had they been hired?_ _

Oh well, he'll call off his girlfriend Midler from the job. _High Priestess_ was frighteningly powerful, but this job clearly wasn't worth it. Besides, it had been Rubber Soul's idea to take up the job to murder a bunch of teenagers anyways. Personally? It reminded him too much of 1988. 

__

__\--???/???--???_ _

__Not even minutes after Hol Horse disappeared, Ryuji had called over the rest of the team._ _

__Yusuke had a bullet lodged in his skull, but at least it hadn't penetrated his brain. Morgana, on the other hand, may be dead._ _

__He heard the roar of an engine as Makoto rolled up on _Wolfmother_ with Akira holding onto her waist. Ann, Futaba, and Haru followed close behind with Ann caressing a ball of black fur in her arms._ _

__Ryuji released a breath he wasn't even aware that he was holding in as he saw Morgana._ _

__The cat was alive, but he was missing a limb._ _

__Ann ran over to Yusuke as soon as they saw his wounds._ _

Using her stand _CAKE_ to manipulate the tissue in his head like clay as to prevent further internal damage and bleeding, she and Makoto extracted the bullets from his body. It was only a temporary fix. Haru was panicking as she examined the rest of his body. The missing hand brought bile to the back of her throat. Haru quickly left to go the bathroom after seeing that. 

__Makoto stepped back and gave Ryuji a concerned, yet frustrated look._ _

__"What happened?"_ _

__As Ryuji scratched his head, he retold his encounter with Rubber Soul and texting Yusuke about it._ _

__The two had planned for them to meet up mid fight to help._ _

Futaba, on the other hand, had already begun using her stand _Miku_ to look up possible keywords for Polnareff's palace. Her stand had the ability to code a small portion of the inanimate reality within a one foot diameter area of her choosing. This, of course, included the Internet. 

__Futaba was practically laughing when she figured this out._ _

__Joker had only stared at the mutilated body and snapped his fingers as to depose of the evidence._ _

__

__\--???/???--???_ _

__Several hours had passed. Joker had spent the last few of them testing keywords in the Nav with the rest of the group._ _

__"Hey, do you think Jotaro or Giorno have do deal with this? This sinking feeling, I mean."_ _

__He didn't know why he asked the group that. He had accidentally voiced his thoughts aloud._ _

__"I don't know, but Jotaro definitely acted a lot more closed about his stand fights in Egypt than Giorno had during Black Sabbath, right?" Makoto spoke up first as she placed a hand on her jaw in thought. What exactly had he gone through in Egypt?_ _

__"Well, it's clear that stand fights are intense, we've seen that first hand." Joker continued as he rubbed his temples, "I doubt anyone would like to relive any of this. Unless they're weird."_ _

__"That's fair, I suppose." Haru agreed wholeheartedly, her eyes moving over to their comatose teammates Yusuke and Morgana._ _

Ryuji opened his mouth to talk without thinking. "Alright, I know it's a pretty freaking sensitive subject now, but frankly, I think we've been thoroughly desensitized to this." He looked down at his chair and rubbed his knees out of habit. "I mean, we all knew what we were getting into after meeting Giorno, man. All we can really do right now is try to survive, and even that's got us acting hysterical." The silence and discomfort of everyone in the room was obvious as Ryuji brought his hand to scratch the back of his neck. 

Getting sick of the silence, Joker spoke back up.

__"I mean, Ann and Futaba are the only ones who have yet to enter a stand fight, but I hope they don't have to." Joker placed his hand on his phone._ _

__"But that gives me an idea of what the palace could be."_ _

__Solemnly, Joker put his phone to his mouth after being sure to press the CONVERT button first._ _

__"Battlegrounds."_ _

_"Match Found."_

__Joker smiled in anticipation._ _

The world began spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it took to get this out.
> 
> I had some ideas about Yusuke's stand for a long time. The main reason I chose a Rainbow in The Dark was because several of its lines:  
> "You're just a picture, an image caught in time."  
> Madarame viewed Yusuke as a piece of art--a literal painting. Now he chooses for himself what that means.
> 
> There were other lyrics that influenced the decision to give it to Yusuke as well, but I'll lead that to you to figure out.
> 
> Additionally, for fights, involving a character tied to a certain Jojo part, I try to structure them based on the structure of fights from that respective part. For example, the fight with Tiramisu Zeppeli was a lot more brief, less complicated, and the callbacks to hamon versus vampires.
> 
> Part 1 gets too much shit because of its awkward pacing in the middle of the story, but it's still really good. People call Jonathan boring, but I genuinely think he's one of the more interesting Jojo characters because of his relationship with Dio. What's not compelling about a man who loves his brother but still recognizes the fact that he needs to be put down? That's exactly the same reason why DMC3 Dante is so compelling too in addition to his goofy attitude in that game. I think modern readers or anime watchers are just turned off by classic hero archetypes and dismiss them without properly thinking about what makes them tick. 
> 
> Anyways, I tried doing the same thing here with the Hol Horse and Rubber Soul fights. Hence why characters are a bit more durable here and why the reveal of the plan between Ryuji and Yusuke was so last minute. In Part 3, Jotaro is a fucking tank and can endure a shit ton of pain, and a lot of fights are resolved by plans or secret abilities from the protagonists right before they are about to die. I think that's partially why a lot of people dislike Part 3. The time stop same stand was set up what with Star Platinum's impossible speed and revealed that fate, which sort of behaves like a deity in Jojo with very defined rules about what will happen, was after DIO. His past is catching up to him no matter what he does, so it works quite well thematically. People just turned their brains off when watching it and then criticize Araki for something THEY didn't understand despite it being set up. Same with Parts 5 (before the anime), Part 6, and Part 8.
> 
> Araki has also stated that he enjoys setting up rules in each part that eventually get contradicted later on in order to keep readers on their toes too.


	17. Killing the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the really late update and the short chapter. I have one final left this week, and I should be back to my faster upload schedule by then.

Joker's head felt like it was about to explode, and given the expressions on the rest of his teammates who could properly invade the palace, they did too. Haru and Futaba had stayed behind to look after Morgana, Yusuke, and Ryuji, leaving only Akira, Makoto, and Ann to deal with Polnareff.

However, not once had the Metaverse Navigator caused them so much pain. Ann held her head as she kneeled over and vomited onto the ground. Makoto looked like she was about to start crying, and Joker scratched at his temples hard enough to draw blood.

This wasn't anything like the pains they had with the Metaverse first time around.

It didn't even feel like the Metaverse. This place was something far more primordial. Instead of the black and red transition of colors that normally occurred when using the Nav, colors and shapes that Akira could not begin to describe assaulted his vision. The more he tried to think about what he saw, the less sense it made--even for the Metaverse. The world around them had shattered into a million pieces, and the surrounding buildings had warped, convulsed, and transformed. The ground beneath them became hollow as the rest of the universe disappeared, leaving them on a floating slab of concrete that had begun to grow in size and grind itself into dirt. 

As the ground collided with the destroyed buildings around them, the ruins had pulsated as though they were breathing and transformed into gravestones. Other objects seemed to stretch upwards and move towards each other, changing in texture and shape as they began to resemble three stone statues.

The statues were humanoid in nature, but they weren't what concerned him.

Grabbing both Ann and Makoto, Akira dodged behind a large gravestone as he attempted to make sense of the situation. Though his head hurt, he quickly got Ann to cast a healing spell on the group to help as she struggled not to vomit. Makoto couldn't hear anything as all she could sense was the pain inside her head.

Far away from them, he saw it. A colossal, wingless dragon the size of a two-story house, much larger than any shadow he had ever seen. It was adorned with yellow scales that shimmered against the bizarre smears of light above them that faintly illuminated their surroundings. The dragon's sharp fangs were easily the size of Akira's torso alone, and it wore several green straps with hearts of the same color. Bits of flesh rotted and healed at equal rate, leaving chunks of meat wherever it roamed. It's blue eyes pierced his soul as it made eye contact with the Japanese teenager.

It smelled of burning flesh.

Akira had only ever encountered something like this once before. It was neither a shadow nor cognition, but rather a fusion of the two as well as something else that caused Akira to instinctually break out sweating. 

The dragon lifted its head up and stared in the direction of the group. Slowly, it began to approach the gravestone they hid behind.

Its footsteps were like cracks of thunder as the ground beneath its feet broke apart by sheer force.

Paralyzed in fear, Makoto held onto Joker as he prayed to whatever God out there for help. Likewise, Ann had quickly taken notice of the reptile and could not move either.

Then it happened. Although the dragon had been previously far enough away from them and was only slowly approaching them, Akira instantly found his head surrounded by innumerable rows of sharp teeth. Akira knew what was happening immediately, and he could only wince as he awaited his horrific demise. Saliva dripped onto his face when the teeth jutted out further as if to swallow him. Its hot breath moistened his body as it began to chew, causing Akira to gasp in pain when its teeth began biting down on his neck. Blood colored his gray vest red. The beast's tongue lapped it up as more teeth began to appear.

Blood entered his lungs as he tried to breathe.

The beast had Ann pegged down onto the floor, crushing her ribcage and causing her to scream out as it folded in on itself. Makoto faired no better as she was caught in its clutches, and it slammed her head against the gravestone, leaving an imprint of her metal mask, which was now dented and bent horribly.

He looked down at the throat of the beast.

The decapitated head of a blue-haired man stared back at him.

His mind ran at a million miles per hour as he tried to think of any possible ways he could save everyone, but his thoughts came to only one possible conclusion.

_Death._

Never will he be able to start a family. Never will he be able to fix his criminal record. Never will he be able to see his friends again.

And Akira cried.

He will die a criminal to his parents.

He hadn't thought of them in a while.

He never got to meet his biological father.

Was this how their enemies felt?

. . .

Although certain death stared him in the face, it never arrived. Someone had grabbed his feet and pulled him away from the beast's mouth. As his savior yanked him out, the beast's teeth tore his trench coat and arms to shreds. But it mattered not.

He was alive.

As he sat on the ground covered in saliva, dirt, and blood, he looked up at his savior, who had already freed Makoto and Ann from the beast. Although Ann had passed out from the pain, Makoto held onto consciousness barely.

He wore a silvery-blue armor that covered his body from head to toe. Yellow eyes peered out from behind the helmet as he brought up his rapier from its sheath.

The beast, angry that it had its meal taken away from him, attacked. It swatted the knight away with ease, launching him into one of the stone statues. The statue was shaped like a fusion between a bird and a man. It flared to life upon contact with the shadow, summoning multiple fireballs to throw at the beast.

Only for the statue to be shattered into pieces by the dragon almost instantaneously.

Noticing how it was distracted, Akira grabbed Makoto's attention by placing his hand on her spiked shoulder. Despite his overwhelming fear, he feared appearing vulnerable to those who need him to be strong far more.

"Can you summon Anat in her motorcycle form?" 

Makoto weakly nodded in response as the bike materialized from thin air. With Ann unconscious and Makoto too concussed to move, Akira threw the two of them onto the bike before getting on it himself, awkwardly using his own body to hold the two of them on the vehicle.

Fuck, if he still had his wild card ability, he'd be able to heal them with no problems.

As he drove away from the creature, he could only look back to see that they hadn't moved at all.

Joker floored the motorcycle again, only for them not to move.

The dragon twisted its head towards them wearing a huge grin.

"Damn it!"

He summoned Arsene as the dragon began to leap towards them. Only for the armored knight to slice at the persona and jump in front of the attack.

"This is my fight. Do that again, and I'll kill you." The shadow's voice echoed through the world.

"This is the only way I have to make up to those who died! I'll kill you if you get in my way!"

The shadow kicked the motorcycle with tremendous force, somehow starting up its engine.

The bike flew forward, far away from the knight and the dragon as the two fought. The dragon was clearly overpowering the knight.

Akira couldn't tell where they were going. Only that it was away from the fight.

The trio found themselves on an isolated rocky cliff by the seashore. Taking a deep breath, Akira sighed in relief when Makoto used one of her healing spells on the group. Thankfully, Ann's chest had healed along with her ribs. So that was one thing less to worry about. 

There were no safe rooms in sight, but they had no choice as they tried to rest.

"Just what is this place?" Makoto asked, now having been restored from her concussion.

Joker was at loss of words. This was unlike anything they had ever seen.

"You mean other than Hell?" He joked.

"Be serious, Joker. It's obviously a palace, but it feels... corrupted to say the least." Makoto scolded, "maybe it's particularly strange because it factors in how a palace viewer would see stands?"

Putting his hand to his chin, Joker tried to piece together the mystery. However, nothing came to mind.

"I wish I knew."

As he twisted his head over to Ann's sleeping form, he found his head already turned and a horrified Makoto.

Standing behind Ann was a crimson demon with white stripes. Its fist entered through her back and out through the front of her stomach, instantly killing her.

Desperately, Joker attempted to summon one of his personas to heal Ann, only for his head to feel like it was about to split. Because he had given up his wild card ability, he was powerless.

Neither he nor Makoto had any spells that could revive someone from death.

And his decision to indulge in this game had just gotten his friend killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this trippy chapter. A lot. Revisiting Part 3 is always fun. Shit is really starting to pick up, so fair warning. Additionally, I recognize that the dialog can be choppy and awkward sometimes, so I'll likely be retroactively updating to fix it. Likewise, the pacing is at breakneck speed right now, which I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing. I'd like for this fic to be longer, but Golden Wind is also rather short and self-contained. So I think it's for the best if I focus on the action for now and add more slice of life later.
> 
> I'm unfamiliar with that sort of story though, so I'll likely need a co-writer or friend to give me a second opinion though.
> 
> Also, I'm considering writing another Persona x JJBA crossover after this. One featuring Johnny Joestar as the stand-in protagonist for Persona 5. He's my favorite Jojo character, and I always really enjoy it when he's the protagonist of a crossover. There used to be a really good Persona 4 crossover fic with him as the protagonist called "A Different Kind of Truth," but the author discontinued it from what I've seen. There's also "Anyone Can Be A Hero," a JJBA x My Hero Academia crossover that's also really good. It's still ongoing, so I definitely recommend you check it out along with the author's other works. Both are really good and really characterize Johnny really well.
> 
> As to why I want to write a fic involving him in P5, Johnny's whole arc is about him becoming a better person and being willing to sacrifice everything for his goals. I like to think that this would juxtapose nicely with the P5 cast, considering the interrogation would go quite differently if Johnny was in Akira's place.
> 
> That or a DMC x Persona 5 crossover featuring post-DMC4 Nero as the protagonist. Something about the image of Akechi firing a bullet into Nero's head and Nero being completely fine is sort of funny to me. Having DMC characters get palaces is cool too.
> 
> Also unrelated, but I recommend reading Chainsaw Man. Shit is tight. Either way, I'd really appreciate any feedback.


	18. All Around The Watchtower

\--01 / 03-- ???

There was something really irritating about this kid and his friends.

When Bucciarati informed the gang about how some Japanese brat wanted to join Passione, Polpo immediately called him up to tell him that he had a new job to do. A job directly from the boss too.

Monitor the brats and tell Polpo everything.

He grabbed a cigar from the back pocket of his pants and lit it using the lighter he borrowed from one of his underlings.

Inhaling, he brought out a 52 card deck from his Borsalino hat and got to work.

As cards scattered across the city, he stood up from his squating position and analyzed the profiles Polpo had sent him.

No doubt they were Yakuza brats about to be way in over their heads or stand users. The former seemed more likely. The group was fucking _weird_.

And most stand users tended to be fucking weird from what he's seen. Especially when they came in groups.

He wouldn't pretend like he was an exception, but when he soured relations between the hitman team and the boss, he could tell these guys were clearly something else.

He blew out a stream of smoke from his lips onto the files given to him.

It was an _Italian_ mafia, so any possible reason why a bunch of Japs wanted to join escaped him.

When the cards eventually came flying back to him, he inhaled smoke and emailed Polpo what he had learned. The joker of the deck had detailed his misgivings regarding the supposed leader of the group quite loudly.

The black-haired teen--according to the joker--acted like "he knew everything." His words were overly repetitive and flowery. His posture was confident yet hunched over. The way he carried himself was contradictory, seemingly calm and reserved one minute then panicked and emotional the next.

In short, he wore a mask to cover up his lack of true resolve, meaning he wouldn't be able to lead properly when the situation called for it.

He could see right through this idiot.

Not that he particularly cared. 

The capo replied back with new orders from the boss.

The brats were to be supposedly accepted into the gang and then slaughtered by the human trafficking team.

He blew out some more smoke and checked his watch.

"January 3rd, 2017."

The year 2017 felt incredibly unnatural, and Cannolo Murollo didn't know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. I really have no excuses. Though I did turn 20 today. It feels surreal no longer being a teenager anymore.
> 
> I figured I'd keep this chapter short and sweet to juxtapose it with the more long-winded stuff from Akira's psuedo-stream of consciousness. It also serves as a nice break from the more experimental stuff from the last chapter. But don't worry, we'll get back to that soon.
> 
> Thank you for supporting this fic so far. I'm pretty mixed about it myself, and I feel as though I could have done more to keep people invested while entertaining ideas that I find interesting. Once again, any criticisms or comments are appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> There we go, boys. Please leave any feedback, criticism, or ideas that you have in the comments below! I've got a good outline planned, but its always nice to see how people will approach writing the same story. I'm mostly doing this to bust out my writing chops before I go back to college for sophomore year, so I'll hopefully get this done before that. It's not likely, but hopefully.
> 
> I'll try to reply to the comments, but I make no promises. I'll try to refine the tags too at a later date when I've gone back and reformatted everything.


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